


Delicious

by Huntersglenn



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV), Without a Trace
Genre: ATF AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-18
Updated: 2013-05-18
Packaged: 2017-12-12 04:51:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 114,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/807459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huntersglenn/pseuds/Huntersglenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set at some point in early season 2, a new case makes Danny and Martin take a close look at their friendship and the possibility that they might have feelings for one another that go beyond friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author: Cathy Roberts  
> Date originally published: April 9, 2009
> 
> Disclaimer: The following story is a work of fanfiction based on the CBS television shows, Without A Trace and The Magnificent Seven. It is in no way intended to infringe on the copyrights of CBS, Warner Bros. TV, MGM, The Trilogy Entertainment Group, The Mirsch Corp, Jerry Bruckheimer Productions, or anyone else who may have legal rights to the characters, settings or song references. I don't own the characters. This story is strictly for entertainment. No monetary gain will be made from anything contained in this story.
> 
> Author's Note: A thank you is due to Vivian (aka Dragontatt) who helped me decide upon a writing style as this story was beginning, and also to Lopaka Tanu (aka I_Want_2) for the inspiration for the title.

Danny Taylor shifted uncomfortably as he sat at a table in the empty dining room of the Platinum Hotel. He and Jack had been there for close to five hours now, gathering leads on their latest missing person. Most of those hours had been, in his opinion, wasted time, but this last thirty minutes spent talking with one of the room service waiters was making all of those wasted hours worthwhile. 

It seemed that their missing person, an ATF Group Supervisor named Christopher Larabee, from their Denver office, was quite an interesting man. He’d arrived in town on Sunday to attend a conference scheduled to begin Monday. Most of the hotel employees as well as the conference organizers and attendees hadn’t had much to report. Larabee left every morning at the same time, arrived at the conference center a few blocks away, then returned to the hotel once the conference was over for the day. He didn’t go out drinking with anyone that he’d met at the conference, nor did he go out with any of his acquaintances that were also attending the conference. When asked why, all Larabee had done was grin and reply that he had something better waiting back at his hotel. The only change in routine had been that morning, when Larabee had failed to show up for the last day of the conference. On the surface, this wouldn’t have been worrisome, it wasn't all that rare for conference attendees to bow out on the last day and go sightseeing, but Larabee had been scheduled to give a presentation that morning, and had, by all accounts, been looking forward to giving it. And so when noon had come and passed, the conference organizer had called the hotel, thinking that Larabee had fallen ill. When the hotel staff had ascertained that Larabee had left that morning as usual, the conference organizer then called in a missing person’s report on the man. Normally, their team wouldn’t have gotten something like this, at least not this early, but with Larabee being a Fed, it had fallen into their laps.

The team, minus Martin who was testifying in court all day, had scoured the hotel before splitting into two teams. Samantha and Vivian had gone to the conference center, calling in their reports, while Jack and Danny had remained at the hotel.

As they went over the phone records and charges made to Larabee’s room, they learned that Larabee placed a room service order each night around midnight, and it turned out that the same waiter delivered the meal to the room. Jack had given Danny the task of talking with the waiter, Ron Bradley, which meant sitting around with nothing to do until the young man arrived for his shift, as phone calls to Bradley's apartment had gone unanswered. Meanwhile, Jack had decided to phone Denver to let Larabee’s bosses know that he was officially missing and seeing if he could get any information on any old or current cases that Larabee had been working on.

At first, Danny had felt a bit pissed off over being deserted and left to twiddle his thumbs while Jack got the chance to find out more about their missing person, but once the waiter arrived, he’d quickly changed his mind. The young man was more than easy on the eyes, and he eyed Danny back, seemingly pleased at being noticed.

Danny's overt appraisal seemed to put Bradley at ease though, and he quickly opened up, admitting that the “something better” that Larabee had at the hotel was another man, and from Bradley’s accounts, this other man was not just good looking, but uninhibited and slightly wild, at least from what Bradley had seen while delivering the room service order each night. The highlight of each delivery was seeing what new and different things Larabee and his boy toy had found to do.

"So they kept on doing things while you were there?" Danny asked, feeling more than a bit of admiration for Larabee's daring and apparent ease at taking what he wanted, when he wanted. God, how many months had Danny spent wishing he could do just that with Martin? But Martin had never acknowledged his flirting or hints, and Danny had pretty much figured out that Martin wasn't interested in men. Didn't stop him from flirting with the guy, but at least now he knew that it wouldn't get him anywhere.

"Oh, yeah," Bradley replied with a salacious grin. "He'd leave the door ajar, then call me in when I knocked and had me set up the food while they kept at it. That first night…" Bradley shook his head as he shifted in his chair. "He was sitting in the arm chair, naked, and the other guy was on his knees, giving him a blow job. Mr. Larabee came while I was there, and he never even tried to hold back how much he was enjoying it. Then he got to his feet, ran his fingers through the other guy's hair and watched me finish setting out the food. He signed the tab and sent the guy to get his pants so he could tip me. That's when I got my first look at him, since he'd stayed on his knees and facing the chair until then."

Bradley smiled, "He was one sweet piece of ass, man. Hell, they both have great bodies, but I really like a guy who knows his place, you know what I mean?"

Danny couldn't agree out loud, but his cock was definitely agreeing with what Bradley was saying. He'd lost count of how many times he'd jerked off to the fantasy of Martin on his knees, willing to do anything and everything that Danny wanted. "So, this happened each night? He was with the same guy?"

Bradley nodded. "Same guy, but each night they'd be doing something different. Spankings, nipple clamps, a cock ring...one night I came in and he had the boy tied to the bed but good. Blindfolded, too. Last night was different. Instead of reaching for his wallet for a tip, he asked if I'd like to have his boy suck me off."

***************************************************************

Ron removed the cover from the second dish, letting the aroma of the lasagna into the room, mingling with the smell of sex that seemed to be ever present each night. The one nice thing about working as a room service waiter was that he got to see so many different kinds of people, and all kinds of different things. There'd been several times when he'd wished that he was one of the guests, and not just an observer, and this past week had been one of those times. Ron had left his shift each night to go home and jerk off with the image of that slut in his mind. Larabee was one lucky son-of-a-bitch.

Ron turned to face Larabee, holding out the bill for the man to sign. Larabee's boy was kneeling on the floor at Larabee's side, practically wrapped around the older man's leg. And naked, just as he was each and every time that Ron had delivered their food.

"You've been giving me excellent service, Ron," Larabee said as he handed the bill back, and Ron had to force himself to look away from the younger man and to Larabee.

"Thank you, sir. It's been a pleasure, I assure you."

Larabee slowly grinned as he looked Ron up and down, his gaze lingering on the bulge that Ron didn't even try to hide.

"I can see that. You know, I've been remiss as a customer, Ron. Each night I automatically give you money for a tip, but it seems to me that maybe I should have been offering you something else."

Larabee stepped back from his boy toy, and a touch on the younger man's shoulder brought the guy more fully to his knees, thighs spread apart and head bowed; a classic submissive pose that made Ron even harder. Was Mr. Larabee offering what he thought he was offering?

"He has a beautiful mouth, Ron," Larabee said as he stepped behind the kneeling man and ran his hand along the guy's jaw line, slightly lifting the jaw so that the man was now facing forward. "A very talented mouth. I'd like to give you a choice, Ron. Money or his mouth." 

Larabee's fingers slid into that mouth, and the kneeling man began to slowly suckle them. Ron knew that choosing the mouth could lose him his job, and even though it was so very tempting, he had enough self-control to say no and keep his job. And then the guy looked up at him, and Ron had to stifle a gasp as he found himself looking into the most expressive blue eyes he'd ever seen. Eyes that darkened as they stared at one another and that mouth just kept on sucking Larabee's fingers.

Ron nodded and he moved just enough to toss the bill onto the tray that rested on the dresser. He quickly unzipped his pants and lowered them and his shorts in one fluid motion, his hard cock springing free. His attention was so focused on watching the slut move forward on his knees that he had no idea what Larabee was doing or even where he was. All he knew was that those fingers were gone and that mouth was all his.

Warm fingers grasped the base of Ron's cock, holding it steady as an even warmer tongue began to lap at his cockhead. Jesus, but that felt good! As the slut kept teasing his cock, Ron ran his hands through the guy's hair, surprised at how soft the short strands felt. A haircut that short, he'd been expecting the hair to feel prickly, not soft, and Ron couldn't keep his fingers still as he smoothed them back over the guy's scalp.

Ron gasped out loud as the guy's mouth engulfed his cock head, surrounding it with that wet heat. Larabee came back into his field of vision, and Ron began to wonder where the man had gotten off to, but his train of thought came to a halt as the boy sucking his cock slid his mouth down Ron's entire length, easily taking him in. Larabee knelt behind the kneeling man, one hand caressing the guy's chest and playing with his taut nipples.

"I knew you'd like this," Larabee said against the toy's ear. "Sluts like you just can't be satisfied with just one cock, can you?"

The toy moaned, and the vibration of the sound went right through Ron's cock. And that's when he realized that Larabee's other hand was busy with the slut's ass.

Larabee looked up at Ron and smiled, and Ron found himself shivering at the predatory look he saw in those green eyes. "Fuck his mouth, Ron. Take him like the slut he is."

**************************************************************

"And the other man was okay with that?" Danny asked as he subtly shifted position in the chair. Being ticked off at being handed off to another man after being so accommodating to Larabee could be a reason to take revenge against the man.

"I guess so because he didn't hesitate when I accepted the offer. He seemed to enjoy it, even when Mr. Larabee insisted that I fuck his slut's face." Bradley grinned, "God, but there's just something about a guy when you're thrusting hard into his mouth and he's looking up at you, his eyes all dark and intense because he's getting off as much as you are, you know what I mean?"

The sound of someone clearing their throat made Danny look up, and he saw that Jack had walked up to the table at some point during Ron's story. Hopefully, the boss hadn't noticed how turned on this line of questioning was getting him. "Jack. This is Ron Bradley, the waiter who took the midnight order to Larabee's room each night. Mr. Bradley, this is Jack Malone, my boss."

Jack's eyebrows were raised as he nodded a greeting to Bradley, and Danny continued, "Mr. Bradley was just telling me about the man who was with Larabee each night."

"I see. And does this man have a name?" Jack asked, looking from Danny to Bradley and back again.

Bradley shook his head. "The only names I ever heard Larabee call him were slut and boy. And I never heard this guy talk, either. Unless moaning counts as talking," Bradley said, a leer on his face.

"Do you think you could recognize him?" Jack asked. "There's a chance that he might be a professional, and we might have a mug shot for him."

"Sure, I'd know him again if I ever saw him, even with clothes on," Bradley assured them. "But I don't think he was a hustler. We get all kinds of people at the hotel, and many of them call out for some action, both male and female. I've seen plenty of hustlers, and this guy didn't come across as one. For one thing, most of the people who hire one don't turn around and buy them something to eat. They get their rocks off, then kick them out. From what I've heard, this guy stayed all night, leaving sometime between 5 and 6 each morning. No," Bradley shook his head. "This guy might have been a slut, but he was no whore. He wasn't getting paid to do that stuff, he was doing it 'cause he wanted to do it."

Despite Jack's presence, Danny felt his cock twitch at that idea. He was beginning to hope that this interview was almost over, because if it wasn't then he was going to be in danger of coming in his pants, or embarrassing himself in some other way.

"While I appreciate your observations, I'd still like for you to come up to our offices tomorrow to take a look at some photographs. We should be able to get you a good selection to look at between now and say, ten in the morning?" Jack asked.

Bradley looked as if he wanted to argue, but he finally nodded. "I'll be losing sleep, but yeah, anything to help you find this guy. He was a pretty good tipper, and the shows weren't anything to sneeze at. Do you need me for anything else? I need to get ready for my shift."

"I don't have any more questions right now. If I think of some, I can ask you tomorrow," Danny said, and Jack nodded.

"Great. See ya." Bradley got to his feet and left, and Jack sat down.

"I spoke to a Vin Tanner in Larabee's office. He's his second-in-command, and he's having their team pull information on their most recent cases. He also filled me in that Larabee was with the Denver PD before joining the AFT, and that one of the reasons he left was because he'd been the target of death threats. An attempt was made on his life, and a bomb was planted in his car, but instead of getting him, they killed his wife and child."

"Jesus." Danny didn't know if he could go on with the same line of work if something like that ever happened to his family. Not that he was planning on having a family, at least not the traditional kind. Although, t was easy to imagine him and Martin living happily with littler versions of themselves running around the yard. Only Martin would also have to be gay for that dream to ever come true, and despite Danny's wishes and hopes to the contrary, the guy had an immutable heterosexuality about him that Danny couldn't ignore.

"Yeah. One of the other team members, a Buck Wilmington, was Larabee's partner back then, and he's heading over to the Denver PD to pull records on their cases. So, aside from this mystery sex partner, Larabee didn't have any contact with anyone else while here in New York?"

"Sam and Viv said that there were some people he knew at the conference, but he didn't hang around with them. He'd leave here, arrive there, attend sessions all day, then come back to the hotel and not leave again until the next morning. I'm thinking that maybe this other guy had a key to Larabee's room and let himself in."

"We need to find this mystery guy, Danny. See if they have security cameras in the elevators or lobby. If Bradley's information is correct, then we know that this guy left the hotel between 5 and 6 each morning, and I can't imagine the lobby being all that busy at that time. He should stand out."

"Right." Danny made a note of that, then realized that he hadn't gotten a description of the guy from Bradley, aside from the guy having blue eyes, and eye color didn't normally show up on the security feeds. Well, he could get a full description later, and it was something that could maybe wait until the morning. They weren't going to go knocking on doors if it got too late at night, and Danny had a feeling that by the time they went through enough tapes to figure out if someone was leaving the same time every morning, then it would be too late to go calling on him. Anyway, if Jack did want a description from Bradley, they knew where to find him before morning.

Jack got to his feet. "I'm going back to the office. Martin should be done with court by now and I'd like to fill him in on what we've got so far. I think I'll have him pull Larabee's financial and phone records."

"See you back at the office," Danny called after Jack. He then took a few deep breaths, getting his body under control. But damn if his mind didn't want to keep picturing Martin on his knees, his beautiful mouth getting slowly fucked while he looked up at Danny with those gorgeous blue eyes of his.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date originally published: April 7, 2009

Martin Fitzgerald dropped his rucksack to the floor, tossed the overcoat onto his chair and ran his hands through his hair as he sat down. He'd spent most of his day sitting outside a courtroom, waiting to testify, and then had been asked to remain in the courtroom once he was done. He was more than ready to relax, but the message on his voice mail from Jack had let him know that he wasn't going to get that chance, at least not until later. Martin felt slightly guilty because he hoped that it wouldn't be too much later, and not because they'd find their latest missing person quickly, but because he didn't want to delay his plans that long.

Jack's message had been simple, telling him that they had a case, Christopher Larabee, but he hadn't left any additional information about the man. He'd gone over what he wanted Martin to do once he was brought up to speed on the case, and that he'd be back to the office soon. Martin sighed as he turned on his computer, his mind already thinking about the various databases he might need for this search. Telephone records, cell phone records, all financial records, criminal records, division of motor vehicles records were the ones that came first to mind.

It wasn't until the computer had fully booted up that Martin thought about checking the whiteboard. Stretching as he stood, Martin walked over to it, and he came to a sudden stop as he saw the picture of the missing person. It was Chris, the man that Martin had made plans with for that very night. The man that Martin had been with for the past five nights in a row. 

Martin swallowed hard as he read the name, Christopher Larabee. This was the first that he'd seen Chris's last name, but then again, Chris didn't know his last name, either. Martin reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and fingered the key to Chris's hotel room as he read the little bit of information on the board. Chris had gone missing that morning after leaving his hotel for a conference. He'd never arrived at the conference, but this wasn't noticed until around 12:30 that afternoon. Martin glanced at the clock on the wall, noting that it was now 7. Chris had mentioned to him that the conference sessions began each day at 9, broke for lunch around noon, then ended at 5. Even though Martin was long gone from the hotel by the time Chris left for the conference, he knew that Chris left the hotel at 8:30 each morning, walking the three blocks to the conference center. If Chris had left on time, then that meant he had been missing now for ten and a half hours. Where could he be? He'd been having a good time at the conference, and Martin knew that Chris was supposed to give a lecture that morning. He hadn't told Martin what it was about, but he had talked about how honored he'd felt to be asked to give the presentation. Chris would never willingly miss it. 

The problem was Martin knew far more about what Chris liked to do with regards to sex than he knew about what Chris did for a living, or even where he lived. Their one night stand of anonymous sex had turned into five nights, and Martin didn't regret a single one of them. No, regret wasn't what he was feeling right then. He was afraid. Afraid for Chris and what might have happened to him, and he was afraid of how his co-workers would look at him once they knew that he'd been spending those nights with Chris. He hadn't outted himself at work, so the fact that he liked both men and women was going to be a surprise right there. And if Jack asked him to go into details about the relationship he had with Chris, well, that wasn't going to go down very well, especially when he revealed that he didn't even know the man's last name. And then it would all be in the official reports on the case and everyone up the food chain would see those reports and know, and his father; well, Martin's stomach did a hard flip when he thought about what his father might have to say on the matter. He'd have to call and tell him before the reports were filed.

Martin closed his eyes and leaned against the nearest surface, wondering how a good week could turn bad so damn quickly. The vending machine lunch of hours ago was threatening to come back up, and Martin swallowed quickly in an attempt to avert vomiting. He was still trying to decide whether to rush to the men's room or just drag a trash can over when he heard the sound of footsteps coming up behind him. Turning slightly, Martin saw that it was Jack. Just seeing his boss and knowing that he was going to lose any and all respect that Jack might have for him was the deciding factor. Martin quickly moved over to Sam's desk, grabbing her trash can and throwing up until there was nothing left in his stomach.

Martin couldn't stop himself from flinching when he felt a hand touching the middle of his back.

"Easy there, Martin," Jack's voice soothed. 

Of course, Jack would be kind to him, but it pained Martin to know that that kindness would be gone once he told Jack the truth. While Martin was pretty certain that Jack would easily handle the knowledge that Martin liked men as well as women, he wasn't naïve enough to think that Jack would easily accept the kind of things Martin liked to do with other men.

"Sorry," Martin said as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I just wasn't…Jack, we need to talk." Martin looked over at Jack and it nearly killed him inside to see the concern in the older man's eyes.

Jack nodded. "Go wash up and meet me in my office. I'll take care of this," Jack indicated the trash can.

"Thanks." Martin hurried to the men's room where he wasted no time rinsing out his mouth and then washing his face. As he dried his hands, he took a long look in the mirror. He really liked working in the Missing Persons Unit, liked his co-workers. Some of them he liked too much, like Sam and Danny, and there were times when Martin knew he'd never stand a chance with either one of them. Sam kept giving the impression that she was untouchable, and Danny, well, Danny just liked women too much to ever consider being with another guy. That didn't stop him from fantasizing about Danny, though, and from wishing that those innocent, flirty remarks that Danny were so good at were for real.

Martin tossed the paper towel into the trash, then headed for Jack's office. He paused just outside the door, watching as Jack worked. Jack finally looked up, meeting Martin's eyes, and he motioned for him to come in. Martin opened the door and then took a seat across from Jack.

"I take it that court didn't go well?" Jack said.

Martin shook his head. "No. Or rather, yes. It went well. The jury came back with a guilty verdict. The A.D.A. is pretty certain that the defense is going to file an appeal, so we sat down and went over everything again. He feels that the case will hold up on appeal, though."

Martin looked down at the front of Jack's desk. "It's this case. I can't work it, Jack."

Jack made a noise and Martin looked up. Jack looked slightly aggravated. "I take it that you spoke with Danny. Martin, I don't really care about your opinion on homosexuality. Chris Larabee is missing, and it's our job to find him, no matter how we feel about how he spent his spare time, do I make myself clear?"

"Jack…" Martin began, but was immediately cut off.

"I said, do I make myself clear?"

Martin nodded, wishing that Jack wasn't so damn stubborn. "Crystal clear."

"Good. Danny interviewed a room service waiter and got a lead on a guy that was spending the nights with Larabee. He's checking now to see if the hotel has security cameras in the lobby or elevators so we can try to identify the boyfriend. In the off chance that the boyfriend is actually a hustler, we're having the waiter come in tomorrow morning to look at some mug shots."

"He won't find him," Martin said. He looked directly at Jack. "He won't find him because there isn't a boyfriend."

Jack and Martin stared at each other for a few moments. Martin felt the room growing warmer by the second, and his stomach was doing those odd little flips again.

"No boyfriend?"

Martin shook his head. "No boyfriend. I didn't even know his last name until I saw it on the board."

"You didn't know his last name? You mean that you…that you're the…" Jack looked about as flustered as Martin had ever seen him look.

"I mean that I've spent the last five nights with Chris, Jack. I can't work this case because of that."

There. It was now out in the open, and despite his fears that Jack would now treat him differently, Martin felt a bit of relief. The times when he'd gone out looking for a man, he'd been careful to ensure that he didn't see anyone he recognized from work, not back in Seattle, nor here in New York. Not ever. As far as Martin knew, Jack was now the only person in the Bureau who knew that Martin liked men that way. Well, as soon as Danny looked at those security tapes, he'd know it, but Martin could only handle one anxiety attack at a time, and right now was the time for feeling anxious about what Jack would say and do about this. He'd have time to panic about Danny later. 

Jack stared at Martin, then reached for his phone and dialed. For one brief, panic-filled second, Martin thought that Jack was calling Victor to tell him that his son was not only gay, but perverted and demanding that he transfer his butt out of there. Instead, Martin found himself hearing Jack telling Danny to collect the security tapes and bring them back to the office as soon as possible. Jack would be going through them himself.

Jack ended the call, then looked at Martin. "I need you on this case, Martin. Larabee is a Group Supervisor with the ATF, on one of their Regional Mobile Enforcement Teams, no less, so finding him is of utmost importance. What I can do is get you away from here. He works out of their Denver office, and I need agents out there to go through his office and house and to liaise with Larabee's team on possible suspects there. I'm sending you and Danny on that. Danny interviewed the waiter, and I'll have him turn his notes over to me. As far as I'm concerned, nobody but me needs to know right now that you were the person keeping company with Larabee this past week. However, if that needs to be revealed, then I won't have a choice to bring up your name, but I'll do my best to keep the details out of the paperwork."

Martin thought that Jack looked sincere and a bit concerned. The hate and revulsion that he'd expected to see just weren't there. Then again, Jack hadn't read Danny's notes, and there was no telling what that waiter had told Danny, especially considering what they'd done last night. "I appreciate that, Jack, but it's not necessary. I'm prepared for the fallout from this, and I don't want you risking your job trying to keep this a secret."

"Let me be the judge of what's necessary and not necessary, Martin," Jack said, his voice stern. "And I'm also the one to be the judge of what and who I risk my career for." 

Jack opened up a notebook and held his pen ready. "I need you to tell me everything you know about Larabee. How and when you met, what he was like, you know the drill."

Martin nodded. He'd lost count of how many times he'd told a witness to tell him everything, because it could be the most littlest of things that broke a case open. "We met Sunday night. I was standing outside of the Falcon, it's a gay bar over on the west side. I think it was around 8 or so, and Chris was heading for the door when we saw each other."

****************************************************

Martin leaned against the brick wall of the club, feeling the vibrations from the music that blared on the other side. Having been in the club on more then one occasion, he could easily picture what was going on inside the building. Bodies pressed close against each other, jockeying for position on the dance floor. Bodies pressed close against each other as they tried to get the attention of the bartender so they could order another round. Bodies tense and sweaty as they rubbed against each other in the booths, the smell of sex mixing with the odor of alcohol, tobacco, sex and leather in the room. And that was just the front room. Martin's time at the Falcon was usually spent in the back rooms, where the real action was to be found.

Standing with his back against the wall, Martin had a clear line of vision of not only the door, but of the men who entered and exited that door. Some of the men entering the club looked eager, some looked downright mean, and some looked a bit desperate, their pants tight and shirts even tighter, nipple rings pushing out the fabric of the shirts, begging to be played with.

And the men leaving the club were a varied bunch as well. Some looking sated, some feral, and some disappointed. Even some who still looked mean because they didn’t get any satisfaction inside. A few of those men had approached him, looking for that satisfaction, but none of them interested him. Martin wasn’t exactly sure just what kind of man he was waiting for that night, but he knew that when that right man approached him, he’d know it, and they wouldn’t need many words to let one another know what they each wanted.

And so Martin waited, for once glad of all of the times he’d spent on stake-outs, since that had helped to teach him patience.

That patience was rewarded when Martin looked toward the street in time to see a man getting out of a taxi. It wasn't an unusual sight in front of the club, but for some reason, Martin didn't want to look elsewhere. The man turned around as the cab drove away, and Martin took quick note of the tight black jeans, black, form-fitting T-shirt and matching leather jacket that the man was wearing. His blonde hair seemed to shine in the streetlight, and the man hesitated for a few moments. Once he finally started toward the doors of the Falcon, Martin saw that he was wearing cowboy boots, and he immediately profiled this man as a stranger to both the club and New York, since those native to the area generally didn't wear those kinds of boots.

The man came to a stop a few yards away, his gaze on the door and then he looked over at Martin. For a moment, it felt as if time stood still as their gazes met. Martin could have sworn that he saw a spark of recognition in the man's eyes, but it quickly passed. The blonde slowly walked over to him, a grin spreading over his face. Everything about this guy, from the way he looked at him to the way he carried himself, screamed at Martin that this guy was into domination and Martin had to fight back the urge to drop to his knees right then and there, freely offering himself.

Instead, Martin pressed his back against the brickwall and did his best to give off an aura of availability and willingness without seeming too desperate for what this man had to offer.

Martin held the other man's gaze a few moments longer, and then found himself looking down at his own boots, signaling his willingness to submit. He knew that the other guy was looking at him, assessing him. Martin had dressed carefully for the evening, black leather pants that hugged his body, black engineer boots, and a tight white T-shirt that left little to the imagination. Clothing that revealed a lot, but still left something there for an interested man to remove, or order to be removed.

"I'm Chris." Just two words, and yet Martin could pick up on the confidence in the man's voice.

"Martin."

"Look at me, Martin."

Martin looked up and saw that Chris had stepped closer until there were just a few feet separating them. Chris reached out with his hand and cupped Martin's jaw, holding his head in place as he looked at him.

"I want you tonight, and I think you know what that means. I want all of you, Martin. The question though, is if you're willing to come back to my hotel with me? Will you trust me that much?"

Martin's mind was racing, trying to make some sense of the situation, since his body was totally in agreement with Chris and wanted to go with the man. It was dangerous to go to hotel with a stranger. Hell, it was dangerous to go home with a stranger, or anywhere else where they'd be alone. Under normal circumstances, a trick would have asked Martin to go to one of the Falcon's back rooms with him. But there was something about Chris that made Martin trust him. Oh, Chris would hurt him, of that Martin had no doubt. But it would be the type of hurt that Martin wanted, and nothing dire or life threatening.

But there were stipulations, things that Martin never backed down on. "You have condoms?"

Chris rubbed his thumb lightly over Martin's cheek. "I have a whole box of condoms. I don't have sex without them." Chris seemed pleased that Martin had asked, and Martin took that as a good sign. Yes, he trusted this man.

"Yes. I want to go back to your hotel, sir."

****************************************************************

Martin realized that Jack was staring hard at him, a look of anger in his eyes. "You know better than to go back to a stranger's hotel room, Martin. How could you be that reckless?" Jack demanded to know, making Martin feel about two feet tall and guilty as sin.

"I know how to handle myself, Jack. I've never gone off with anyone who made me feel uncomfortable, and with Chris, I felt very comfortable."

"You make it sound as if you always go off with strangers for sex." Again, Jack's tone of voice made Martin feel worse than before.

"Not always, no. Just sometimes." There was no way in Hell that Martin was going to even try to explain to Jack how sometimes he just craved anonymous sex and the chance to lose himself in whatever happened; that sometimes he wanted to be hurt, wanted to submit to another man, needed to be punished. There was no way Jack could ever understand those feelings, and Martin knew it would be a lost cause for him to even try to explain them.

"Anyway, as we rode back to the hotel, Chris told me that he was in town for a conference, but he never said where it was being held or what it was about. He mentioned that he was giving a presentation during it, and he seemed to be proud about that. Chris mentioned that several times during the week." Martin shook his head, "I'm sorry that I can't give you more details, Jack, but that first night we didn't talk all that much, and the little bit of talking that we did do was mostly about what we each liked and didn't like, sex-wise. He asked me to stay the night, I told him that I would, but that I had to leave early the next morning, and he had no problem with that. Monday morning, he asked me if I'd come back that night, and again, I agreed to do that. Tuesday morning he brought up the idea of me coming back each night, and he gave me the extra keycard for the room." 

Martin pulled the key out of his pocket and put in on Jack's desk. "We were alone each night. And except for Wednesday, Chris was there in his room by the time I arrived, but he never asked why I didn't show up at the same time each night. The only other person we ever saw was the room service waiter. When Chris called for room service on Monday night, he specifically asked for that waiter. It was the same each time. Chris would call to place the order, then he'd open the door and flip the security latch so that the door wouldn't fully close. Once that was done, he'd go back to whatever it was we were doing before he called. The waiter would arrive, Chris would call out for him to come in and then he'd basically ignore the guy until he had the food set out on the table. Chris would then sign the bill and give him a tip, asking him to shut the door behind him on the way out."

"Except for last night," Jack said, his voice almost a monotone.

Martin once more found his face growing warm as he wondered just how much of that interview with the waiter Jack knew about. "Except for last night," Martin agreed.

Jack tossed his pen onto the desk as he leaned back in his chair, confusion in his eyes. "I don't understand how you could let yourself be used like that. Martin, what the Hell were you thinking? Or were you thinking at all? If he'd offered your services to the whole hotel staff would you have complied?"

"You're right, Jack. It's not something you'd ever understand." Martin's embarrassment was now turning to anger. How dare Jack sit there and pass judgment on what he liked or on what he did? "You know, my sex life is really none of your business. And if I was a stranger to you, you wouldn't be asking me a question like that. You'd at least pretend that it didn't matter to you what I did."

They stared at each other for a few moments. Or rather, Jack stared while Martin glared. Jack finally sighed and nodded. "You're right. I wouldn't be asking those questions of a stranger. But you're not a stranger to me, Martin. I can't help it if I feel concerned for you over what you've been doing. Anonymous sex, especially the kind of sexual activity that you seem to be engaging in, can be dangerous."

Already knowing the statistics that backed up Jack's comments, Martin remained silent. He had no argument other than that he felt that he could trust Chris, and Chris had not done anything during the week to prove Martin wrong.

Jack picked up his pen again, "So, the only phone calls that were ever made from the room were when Larabee called room service."

"When I was there, yes. I don't know who he called the rest of the time. I do know that he had a cell phone because he put it on a charger each night, but I never saw him using it."

"What about incoming calls? Were there any of those?" Jack asked.

Martin shook his head. "No. There was a message on his phone the one evening that I got there first, and Chris listened to it once he arrived, but he didn't say anything. He just listened to the message, then deleted it. But, he was a little distracted at the time," Martin remembered. Most men didn't pay too much attention to things when they were having their cock sucked, and Chris seemed to be like most men in that regard.

Jack reached for the phone, "I think we're done here. I'm going to call now to get the plane reservations. I'm going to try to get the two of you out of here tonight, so go home and pack, then get back here."

Martin nodded and got to his feet. He was almost at the door when Jack spoke again. "Martin, I know that you don't feel this is any of my business, but please tell me that you were careful, that you used protection each time. You're a good agent, and I'd hate to lose you to something that could have been avoided by using a condom."

"I always insist on condoms," he assured the older man.

Jack nodded, and began to dial. Martin looked at him for another moment, relieved that Jack was handling this so well. Hopefully, Danny would handle it just as well once he found out about Chris. He left Jack's office, retrieved his belongings from his desk and then headed out. He spared a glance to the white board, his gaze lingering on Chris's picture. Where the Hell are you, Chris, Martin thought. Please, please don't be dead on me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date originally published: April 7, 2009

Danny was angry and frustrated, and he didn't care who knew it as he stormed down the hallway toward Jack's office. He could understand Jack wanting him to hurry back with the footage from the hotel's security cameras, but he didn't understand Jack yanking the assignment away from him. In Danny's book, Larabee's boy toy was the main suspect in the man's disappearance, and identifying the guy was their number one priority. Now that it was officially the weekend, and Martin would no longer be needed in court, he was free to help out with the investigation, so there was no logical reason for Jack to pull Danny off of watching those tapes. 

The thing that really irked Danny the most about it all was that he hated watching video footage, and yet now he found himself determined to do his best to get Jack to put him back on the job. He tried to tell himself that it was pure professionalism, but that was crap and he knew it. The truth was that Bradley's accounts of that mystery man had grabbed Danny's interests in a big way, and he wanted to see the face of the man who had been so willing to do those things with Larabee. Maybe for once Danny could envision someone other than Martin Fitzgerald while jerking off? Danny snorted, yeah, fat chance of that happening.

He turned and used his back to push open the door to Jack's office, then dropped the box of video tapes into the chair in front of Jack's desk. Jack was looking at him, an amused expression on his face, and that just pissed Danny off even more.

"That's the morning footage from the lobby for each day this week," Danny said. "Look Jack, whatever it is that you're pulling me off of this to do, well, can't you give that to Martin? I've got a rapport going with Bradley, and if I can find a few guys that might be our mystery man for him to try to identify, it'll go easier."

"I have the feeling that Mr. Bradley has no problems developing a rapport with just about anyone with a penis," Jack said, his voice neutral. "You need to go home and pack, then get back here. You and Martin are going out to Denver tonight. I've got seats for you on a flight that leaves LaGuardia at 9:45, so you've got just enough time to pack, get back to be updated and get to the airport. While on the way back here, I got a call from Vin Tanner, and they've got some promising leads on some recent cases. I'll want you and Martin to split up while out there, with one of you going over Larabee's house and anything from when he was a cop, and the other one of you searching his office and going over the ATF cases. His team should be able to help you two find people to interview. Provided he hasn't turned up, then by this time tomorrow night, I want to know everything there is to know about Chris Larabee."

Oh. That was different, then, Danny thought. He could handle going out to Denver, especially if he was going out there with Martin. They worked well together when away from New York, they'd proved that back when they'd worked together in San Diego. Pity that they never had a chance to actually go swimming at the beach; Danny would have loved seeing Martin's choice when it came to swim trunks.

"Okay," Danny replied, no longer pissed. "I take it that Martin's already packed and ready to go?"

"I sent him home about thirty minutes ago, so he'll be here when you get back." Jack held out his hand. "I need your notes from the interviews today. And if you've got Mr. Bradley's number, then I'll need that as well. I might need to contact him before he gets here in the morning."

"Sure." Danny reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out his notebook, handing it over. "His numbers for work and home are at the top of the page," he informed Jack.

"Great. Now, get going. Viv and Sam are on their way in, and I'd like for us to have a chance to go over everything before you and Martin have to leave for the airport."

Dismissed, Danny quickly headed for the elevators, silently thanking Chris Larabee for being from Denver and giving him the chance to spend some quality time alone with the object of his fantasies. Sure, he hoped they'd find the guy alive and well, but when it came to spending time with Martin, Danny tended to be glad of what little bits he got, even if the cause wasn't always good.

 

When Martin returned to the office, he found that Viv and Samantha had come back from the conference center. The only person missing was Danny, and Jack told him that Danny had gone home to pack and would be back shortly. He tried to get a good, hard look at Jack, wanting to know if there was now disdain in his eyes, but Jack had settled in at the conference table, and it was almost impossible for Martin to get that look without coming off as if he were staring at his boss. Any other time and he wouldn't have minded being caught staring. God knew he'd had plenty of fantasies about Jack. The man had a lot of qualities that Martin looked for in another man. He was older, an authority figure and not bad looking. Martin also had a feeling that if Jack ever let himself go, he'd be one Hell of a top. But, there was a big flashing stop sign, and that was that shining ring of gold on the third finger of his left hand. Aside from coming across as firmly heterosexual, Jack was a confirmed family man. Granted, Jack didn't seem to always be a happily married man, but Martin knew that Jack's children meant everything to him. There was no way that Martin was going to take a step in Jack's direction to test the waters and be the cause of Jack losing his girls.

Martin's gaze shifted to Sam, and he smiled slightly, getting one from her in return. He liked her smiles. He liked her long legs and full breasts, and he'd had more than one wet dream that starred Samantha Spade. Sam was definitely the kind of woman that Martin preferred. Hard as steel inside, but soft and curved in all the right places on the outside. The big drawback to her, aside from the fact that she seemed to be attracted to tall, dark, New York policemen, was that she'd probably be bossy as Hell, and while Martin didn't mind that in another man, it just wasn't what he wanted in a woman. No, with a woman, Martin liked there to be a bit of equality, each of them sharing what they liked and alternating being in charge of the encounter. 

Martin next looked at the empty seat at the table, and beyond that to Danny's desk. Danny was the other co-worker who'd starred in a lot of Martin's fantasies, but like Jack, Danny was firmly heterosexual. A shame really, because Martin had a feeling that Danny was capable of dishing it out but good. There was this tightly controlled person beneath the happy-go-lucky attitude that Danny tried to project. Martin had seen it come out in interviews, and damn, each time it had been arousing to see. But he knew that there could never be anything more than him sitting there admiring his partner. Yes, Danny flirted with him, but Danny flirted with anything that breathed, so Martin had never read much into that. He valued the friendship that was between the two of them, and that friendship was what kept him from testing the waters. He'd been afraid that Danny would say no and be horrified, and their friendship would come to a screeching halt. And so Martin had kept quiet, only to now find himself at the point of having to confess to Danny that he'd been spending time with Chris Larabee. Danny had been the one to interview the waiter, and Martin had no doubt that the waiter had talked quite a bit about what had gone on in that hotel room. Looking back, he found himself wishing that he had made a pass at Danny before any of this had happened. If the end result was going to be the same, then at least he would have gotten a kiss out of it first, or maybe even a grope or two before Danny slugged him.

The subject of Martin's musings came into sight down the hallway, grinning as he made his way to the conference table, taking the only empty chair as he grumbled about the evening traffic. 

Greetings were exchanged and the briefing began. For Martin though, it was a waste of time. His mind was still reeling from Chris being missing, and having to make that confession to Jack. He was glad that Danny paid attention at briefings, because he knew he'd be relying on Danny's recollections more than once come tomorrow. Provided of course, that Danny was still talking to him by then. Maybe he wouldn't tell him about Chris tonight, but wait until later the next day? Or the day after that even?

Martin was still trying to decide about that when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up into Jack's concerned eyes.

"Time for you two to get out of here," Jack said as he gave Martin's shoulder a squeeze.

Martin nodded as he realized that everyone else was gone from the table. Jack leaned down, "You don't have to say anything to Danny, you know. We might be able to solve this case without anyone else knowing about you and Chris," Jack whispered, having figured out that that was the course of action Martin would take.

A part of him knew that Jack was right about that. But another part of him knew that if he withheld that information from Danny, then the man would never trust him again. That is, if the mere knowing about the sexual affair didn't send Danny running.

"I know, but it's the right thing to do," Martin softly replied.

Jack sighed and gave the shoulder another squeeze, then he walked away. Martin got to his feet and went to his desk, where he'd left his carry-on bag. Danny was standing nearby, his foot tapping an impatient beat on the floor.

"Ready whenever you are," Martin said, trying his best to look and sound cheerful. The calculated look that he received in return told him that he'd failed in both regards.

"Let's get going then," Danny said as he turned and headed for the hallway. "Flying's bad enough without having to add in waiting at the airport. At least I can pass the time by filling you in on the briefing we just sat through."

Martin fell into step beside Danny and frowned at the man's teasing, even though he knew he deserved it. "I'd appreciate that."

Danny cocked his head to one side and grinned. "Anything to please you, partner."

Martin's breath caught in his throat at hearing Danny use that word. Chris had called him partner on more than one occasion, and Martin had put it down to Chris being from Denver, so he never said anything about it. Now, hearing the same word coming from Danny's lips, even though Martin knew that Danny meant it so very differently, was disconcerting. It also wasn't doing much to help Martin's nerves.

Danny came to a stop, an odd look on his face. "You okay?"

"Sure," Martin lied. "I just never thought I'd hear you referring to me as your partner, that's all."

Danny grinned again. "Sounds good, doesn't it?"

Martin couldn't agree more, and he nodded, smiling back at Danny. "It does. C'mon, let's get out of here."

They made their way downstairs and quickly hailed a cab. Once at the airport, the lines at the security checkpoints were small, and they were at their gate in plenty of time. The waiting area wasn't full, and the men had no trouble finding two seats that were a bit apart from the rest of the passengers.

"So, ready to fill me in?" Martin asked as he got settled in the chair. He'd been tempted to wait until they were on the plane to ask Danny about the briefing, knowing that it would distract the other man for a while and get his mind off of his fear of flying. But thoughts of Chris and what might have happened to him kept swirling through Martin's mind, and he found himself needing the distraction.

"Sure." Danny pulled out a small notebook. "We have one witness as to what Larabee was up to when he wasn't at the conference, and Jack wanted to follow up with that interview. It turns out that Larabee had a very active sex life, at least here in New York. He had the same guy in his room each night, and the room service waiter saw him each of those nights. If we're lucky, he'll be able to ID the guy, since we don't even have a name for him right now."

Martin nodded, feeling slightly sick to his stomach. This would be a good time to admit to Danny that he was that unnamed man, but the courage that had been present when Martin told Jack about Chris, had disappeared now that he was faced with making that came confession to Danny.

"The conference personnel and attendees were pretty much a bust. Larabee showed up on time and left once the day's activities were over. There were a few people present that he knew, and they asked him to go out to dinner with them, but each time he'd just tell them that he had something better waiting back at his hotel." Danny grinned and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "And judging from what that waiter told me, Larabee wasn't joking about *that*. It sounds as if he was quite a player, and I'd bet anything that this wasn't a side of himself that Larabee let be seen back in Denver."

"How can you say that about him? Judging him like that just because he was with another man. You don't even know Chris Larabee," Martin said, feeling irritated and more than a little angry that Danny would just jump to conclusions about Chris. So, yes, Chris didn't like women the same way that Danny did, but Martin doubted if Danny would be using that tone of voice if Chris's 'guest' had been a woman and not another man.

 

Danny had been doing his best to fill Martin in about what Chris Larabee had been up to, and it wasn't easy by any means. Danny had spent the entire cab ride to the airport going over different scenarios, and choosing his words carefully. He had no desire to risk losing Martin's friendship by letting on just how much he wished he could have changed places with Larabee in that hotel room. And then substituted Martin for that mystery slut. 

And so when Martin's eyes flashed angrily and Martin tore into him for what he'd said, Danny was confused on more than one front. First, Martin had never met Larabee, so why was he being so protective of the guy? Second, all Danny had said was that the guy was a player, and not even hinted at anything else. Also, the 'player' comment had been about the mystery man, not about Larabee. 

It was all very puzzling, and Danny found himself once more choosing his words carefully as he looked at Martin. He wanted answers, and he also wanted to assure Martin that he wasn't judging Larabee or anyone else. Maybe Martin was just being overly politically correct? Danny opened his mouth to tell Martin that he'd not been judging anyone, but before he could get a word out, Martin got to his feet.

"I'll be right back."

Danny closed his mouth and watched as Martin made his way across the concourse to the men's restroom. He sat forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees as he went back over all that he'd said to Martin, just in case he had used a wrong word or two. But no matter how many times he ran through his words, Danny couldn't see anything to them that would set Martin off that way. There were times when Martin left him perplexed, and this was definitely one of them.

After ten minutes had gone by, he began to look worriedly toward the men's room. Martin had left his carry-on bag by his chair, and Danny couldn't leave both of their bags there and walk away just to check on Martin. And he sure as Hell wasn't toting both bags to the men's room with him! For one brief moment, Danny thought of using his FBI credentials to get the attendant at the desk to watch the bags for him, but he decided not to try that. While he was pretty sure that she'd say yes, he didn't think she'd be too happy about it once she saw him going across the concourse, and with his luck, she'd call and complain. So, no going into the men's room after Martin. The boy was on his own.

Reasoning that Martin must have eaten something that disagreed with him, Danny leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, trying to get some rest before getting on that cleverly disguised death trap. He must have dosed off, because the next thing he knew, a voice was announcing over the loudspeaker that their flight was now boarding.

Danny was standing and reaching for his bag before he realized that Martin wasn't there. He noted that Martin's bag was still sitting there on the floor, and he turned to look toward the men's room, wondering if Martin was still in there. He glanced at the clock and frowned as he saw that twenty minutes had passed since Martin had rushed off in that direction. Danny was about to head that way when he saw Martin approaching from further down the concourse, a magazine in his hand. Chuffing in annoyance, Danny shook his head as his partner got closer.

"Time to board," Danny said, although by the way everyone else was up and holding their bags, it was pretty noticeable.

"Good timing. I'd just bought this," Martin said as he tucked the magazine into his bag, then picked it up. "Have they called our row yet?"

"Not yet," Danny replied. Inside, he was relieved that Martin hadn't spent all that time in the men's room, but he still found himself wondering if Martin had ever returned to the waiting area once he'd left there. Problem was, there was no subtle way to ask that, and even though he was curious, Danny wasn't sure if he was curious enough to risk being on the receiving end of a Fitzgerald eye-roll that spoke volumes.

There was no way to resume their earlier conversation as the line snaked toward the flight attendant. But once they were on the plane and seated, Danny was pleased to see that the two of them were isolated from the rest of the passengers. When he'd first looked at the ticket information and seen that they were seated in the back of the plane, Danny had felt irked. Flying was bad enough, but being stuck in the tail section made it far worse. But now, seeing that a few rows separated him and Martin from the rest of the passengers, Danny was glad that Jack hadn't tried to get them better seats. Not only could he find out just what had set Martin off earlier, but there was nowhere for Martin to run. Sure, he could head for the lavatory, but there was no way he could stay in there indefinitely.

Danny waited in the aisle as Martin stowed his bag in the overhead bin and then slid into their row, taking the window seat. He put his bag in beside Martin's, grabbed a couple of pillows and blankets and took the aisle seat, grinning as he now had his partner trapped. He dumped the pillows and blankets in Martin's lap, then commenced buckling his seat belt, completely aware of the steady gaze that Martin was giving him.

Once the belt was secure, Danny took back one pillow and one blanket. "It's going to be a long flight, and I don't want to have to keep getting up every time you decide you need a pillow or a blanket." 

"You make it sound as if I hoard them," Martin replied as he settled the other items over his lap.

"Need I remind you that I flew back from San Diego with you? On a non-stop flight no less? Let's see if I remember this correctly," Danny said, grinning, "I'm pretty sure that by the time we landed at LaGuardia, the count was three pillows and four blankets. You made the flight attendant scour the plane to get you the last blanket, and I think that two babies froze on that trip because of the blanket shortage."

Danny grinned as Martin gave him a one-fingered reply. It hadn't been all that bad. The flight attendant had practically fallen over herself to get Martin everything he wanted, and probably would have offered to have his babies if he'd given her the slightest bit of encouragement. The temperature on the plane had been nice, at least for Danny. Not too hot, not too cold. They'd only been in the air for a minute or so when Martin declared that he was freezing, and he'd crawled over Danny to get to the aisle so he could search through the overhead bins for a blanket. Twenty minutes later, Martin had announced that his neck was sore, and he once more crawled over Danny to get to the aisle to get a pillow. Thirty minutes after that, it was time for another blanket, only this time Danny made Martin ask for one. Not that he minded Martin crawling over him, in fact it was the opposite. He liked it far too much, and he had no blanket to use to cover the erection that kept starting each time that fine looking ass passed by just inches away from Danny's face. And he was almost positive that Martin deliberately placed his hand on his upper thigh the last time he'd crawled out of their row. The only thing that kept him from being totally positive was the knowledge that Martin was straight.

Then there were the trips to the lavatory. When out on surveillance, Martin could spend hours on end drinking cup after cup of coffee, and never once hint at needing to take a piss. Put the man on an airplane, and within five minutes of reaching the cruising altitude, he was headed for the lavatory. And when Martin wasn't walking the aisle to and from the lavatory, or seeking out more pillows and blankets, he was sleeping or reading. To say that Martin wasn't exactly good company on an airplane would be downplaying the reality. The man was lousy as a flying companion, unless you were the type of person who shunned all human contact while flying. Danny was not one of those kinds of people. His apprehension over flying made him anxious for human contact. Talking to another person helped to keep his mind off of the fact that an oversized metal can full of humans was not only staying up in the air, but moving forward at the same time. Talking kept Danny from straining to hear if the engines sounded any different, or if the landing gear was raising or lowering, or if the metal seams of the plane were slowly coming apart.

Jack was always a good companion on a flight. For a man who was so quiet and reserved at work, he was a chatterbox when on a plane. Or maybe he just knew that the talking put Danny at ease and was putting his psychology training to work? Either way, Danny liked flying with Jack. Viv was about as bad as Martin, but not because she didn't talk, but because once she got away from the office, the talk was either about her family or the case. Samantha was another quiet one, but not as bad as Martin. The one good thing about flying with Martin was getting to sit next to him in close quarters, inhaling his scent and always letting Martin take the window seat so that he had to touch Danny in order to go anywhere. It was a good trade-off, he thought.

The plane began to taxi, and Danny decided that it was an excellent opportunity to get back to their talk. Martin couldn't get up now.

"So, why'd you get so bent out of shape before?" Danny asked.

Martin had been looking out the window, and he turned to look at Danny. "What do you mean?"

"You got all mad with me about Chris Larabee. Why? I didn't say anything about judging him. All I did was point out the facts. And I still need to fill you in on more."

Martin sighed. "Look, just because Chris likes men is no reason for you to be calling him names or insinuating that he acts one way at home and another way when away from home. For all you know, he's like that all the time. Or maybe this was a one-off thing for him."

Danny's eyebrows rose, as much from the idea of Larabee's activities being a one-time thing as from the tone of Martin's voice. He was still defending the guy, and sounding more than a little touchy about it, too.

"From what the waiter described, this was not a one-off thing for Larabee. Besides, my comment about the guy being a player wasn't about Larabee. It was about the guy who was with him. Can you believe that this guy let Larabee use him as a tip for the waiter?"

Danny saw Martin's expression change, and he thought that maybe Martin didn't understand what he meant. "You know, use him as in having him give the waiter a blow-job, Martin. And from what the waiter said, that wasn't all that this guy did."

"I know what he did, Danny," Martin snapped. "You don't have to go into details."

Danny frowned, then remembered that Jack had heard that last part of the interview and most likely told Martin about it. "I guess Jack told you what the waiter said. Anyway, I don't hold that against Larabee..." 

"It's me."

Danny's mouth snapped shut and he stared at Martin, slightly shocked by the revelation. Then it dawned on him that this was why Martin had gotten angry before. He hadn't been angry with Danny about judging Larabee, but had been angry at himself. Of course, now Danny's problem was trying to figure out if Martin had judged Larabee for being gay or for the kind of sex he seemed to enjoy. That answer could make a world of difference if Martin ever found out that Danny was gay. Well, the plane was no place to have a talk about sexual preferences, even as isolated as they were, and it would just have to wait for later. But Danny was determined that there would be a later.

"Okay." Danny said, nodding as he looked at Martin. Martin looked relieved at that simple word, and Danny found himself relieved as well. It was a sure symptom that he had it bad for Martin when anything that made Martin feel better, made him feel better, too. "Anyway, the important thing to keep in mind is that his teammates in Denver might not know about what Larabee likes as far as sex goes. So, unless they bring the subject up, Jack thinks we shouldn't mention it. Of course, if the investigation goes in that direction, then we'll have to bring it up, but unless that happens, Jack advised extreme caution. This is a fellow Fed, and there's no need to out him if he's not already out to his team."

Martin nodded. "Sounds reasonable. How do you want to divide things tomorrow? I'm thinking that under the circumstances, it would be best to keep me out of their office as much as possible, so I should be the one to go search Chris's house and check on his cases from when he was with the Denver P.D." 

"Ah, so you did pay attention to some of the briefing?" Danny asked. "I guess that you also heard the bit about Larabee's wife and son getting killed when someone tried to kill him. According to Jack, the perp's never been identified, so that's a possible suspect or suspects right there."

"I heard that part," Martin softly replied.

"Okay. I don't have a problem with you going through Larabee's house and the police files. I'll tackle his office and ATF files. Hey, we're in the air." Danny had been so busy talking that he hadn't even felt it when the plane had lifted off from the ground. 

Beside him, Martin shoved the pillow against the window and leaned his head against it, then covered himself with the blanket. Time for his nap, Danny noted with a bit of sadness. He'd really hoped that this time Martin would spend more time talking. Ah well, at least one of them would be rested by the time they reached Denver. He settled back in his seat and waited for the 'fasten seat belt' light to go off. Martin had left that copy of "Sports Illustrated" in his bag, and Danny wanted to get it. If he couldn't talk with Martin during the flight, then the least he could do was spend time reading, and since Martin had been thoughtful enough to buy a magazine they both could enjoy, Danny figured he might as well take advantage of it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date originally published: April 10, 2009

Martin closed his eyes as he snuggled under the blanket. He hadn't planned on just blurting out the truth that way, but it had happened. He had waited anxiously for Danny's reaction, and he had to admit that that simple 'okay' had not been expected. Danny had simply accepted it, no questions asked. Danny seemed perfectly willing to go on as if Martin hadn't admitted something that had to have shaken Danny's world. At least he hoped that it had shaken Danny, at least a little bit. He knew that Danny had this preconceived idea of his upbringing and present life, and Martin was pretty confident that him being a submissive in that way had never once entered Danny's head.

However, there was no way that he was going to risk Danny suddenly having questions and wanting answers, and so he'd do as he often did when flying with Danny and pretend to sleep for most of the flight. He also didn't want to find himself trapped in his seat while Danny lectured him on how dangerous his sexual preferences were. Martin had had enough of that with Jack. And like Jack, Danny would want to know why Martin liked that kind of sex. Danny liked to give off the image of a playboy, but Martin was pretty sure that the most kinky sex the guy had ever had had been having sex with a woman in public, and even then, they were probably in a car or something. Martin just couldn't picture Danny pushing a woman up against a wall and going at it in an alley or some other public place.

There was also the fact that Martin himself found it difficult to put his feelings into words. How could he find the right words to explain how right it felt to just hand over total control to another man? Or how the pain felt good and euphoric? Or how aroused it made him to know that he had managed to handle what a top had given out, and that the top was well pleased with him for doing so? Even more difficult was trying to find the words to explain that sometimes he just felt that he deserved to be punished. That he was a failure and had to pay for that failure. That he'd had too many undeserved breaks, and deserved to atone in some way for that. Oh yeah, Jack the psychologist would have had a field day if Martin had opened up in his office about why he had wanted to go off with Chris and then kept coming back.

Martin sighed against the pillow as his thoughts turned to Chris. While he didn't know Chris all that well, he felt that he knew the important things about the man. He was strong and trustworthy. He kept his word. He liked to be in control and could sometimes be downright sadistic. Martin couldn't picture Chris being easily mugged and left for dead in some New York alley. Nor could he picture Chris just walking off and not showing up at that conference. As he'd told Jack, Chris had talked about the conference, and he'd been proud about being asked to speak there. He wouldn't have let the organizers down; more importantly, he wouldn't have let himself down.

Yet while Martin couldn't see one person taking Chris down, he knew that the man would have been vulnerable to a gang attack. It didn't matter that there was no gang territory between the hotel and the conference center, a gang could have been roving the city that morning. Or it could have been a group of initiates out to earn their way into a gang. He shivered as he pictured a bloodied and unconscious Chris huddled in a dark alley. And then he felt his heart melt a little bit as he felt another blanket being draped over his body.

"Looks like I'd better track down a few more blankets for you, partner," Danny said.

Martin raised his head and looked over at him, noticing that Danny had found the magazine. After spending far too long hiding in the bathroom to avoid Danny, he'd thought the least he could do was go and buy something for Danny to read. "Looks that way. They've probably got the air set as if this was a full plane, so it'll get chillier before we reach Denver."

"The flight attendant will be here soon to see if we want anything to drink," Danny said. "Want some coffee or tea?"

Martin really wanted something alcoholic. Lots of something alcoholic, but he didn't think that request would go over well, since they were technically on the clock, and it sure as Hell wasn't a healthy or safe thing to do, not when he knew Danny would want to talk some more. He shook his head. "I'm good for now, thanks."

Danny nodded. He held up the magazine. "Now that you're awake, do you want this?"

"No. I've got a book to read if I can't sleep."

Danny's eyebrows rose. "Really? Anything good?"

"I'm liking it so far," Martin said. "It's a look at the most recent economic policies and how they'll impact the next five years, mostly looking at the tax codes and such." It was hard to keep a straight face while lying to Danny about the book, but damn it was fun! He knew just how Danny would react, and it was always good fun to yank Danny's chain.

Danny's nose wrinkled in disgust. "Martin, my man, we have got to find you a new hobby. It's just not healthy for you to be obsessing over the tax codes."

Martin laughed. "I was just joking with you. It's Nevada Barr's latest book."

That earned Martin a blank look, so he continued, "She writes about a female National Park Ranger who solves mysteries. So, not only is there a murder to solve, but you get to find out about a National Park. This book takes place on the Natchez Trace Parkway in Mississippi."

Danny's look was definitely one of disbelief. "You expect me to believe that the Natchez Trace Parkway is a National Park? Try again, Martin. No. Better yet, just stick with the truth. You just can't help being a math geek and there's no shame in admitting that you like to read books about math and taxes and all kinds of other boring things. Me?" Danny held up the magazine. "I'll stick with sports."

Martin huddled back down in his blankets and closed his eyes. He grinned at how Danny could be so narrow-minded at times. Despite Danny's words though, he was pretty sure that it wouldn't be too long before Danny went rummaging around in Martin's bag, checking out the book. It wasn't so much a matter of not believing his lie, but the niggling suspicion that Martin was pulling one over on him that would drive Danny to invade his privacy that way. Always thinking ahead, Martin had made sure that he packed the book in an outer pocket, where Danny would quickly find it, and keep Danny from going any further into the bag. Not that he had packed anything embarrassing, he just didn't want Danny pawing through his underwear and then waiting until they were back in the office to comment on his clothes.

"Wake me when we get to Denver," Martin muttered, not really caring if Danny heard him. If the past was any guide, then Danny would be trying to awaken him in about twenty minutes or so. The man just couldn't sit there and be quiet, and with them being a bit isolated from the rest of the passengers, Danny's choices for conversation were either a bored flight attendant or him. Martin was pretty certain that the flight attendants wouldn't start to get bored until about halfway into the flight, so that left him. Maybe if he was lucky, Danny would get so caught up in reading that he'd let Martin get a little bit of sleep before trying to find some not so very subtle way of waking him, like pulling the blankets away, or moving Martin's seat back, or adjusting the air flow so that it was blowing directly into his face. Danny Taylor could be a devious son-of-a-bitch when bored, Martin knew that first-hand, but it was kind of hard to get angry at a guy who was scared of flying and needed the conversation to get his mind off of it.

Now Chris was definitely subtle when it came to waking someone. Then again, having Chris waking him up meant that sex was going to happen, and that was always a good thing. Having Danny waking him up didn't mean that sex was going to happen, unfortunately. But he had come to terms with that. He could fantasize about Danny all he wished, and no one was the wiser.

Martin thought back over the week, remembering the mornings when Chris had awoken him in so many different creative ways. There'd been Wednesday morning when Martin had awoken with a gasp of pain as Chris had placed one of the nipple clamps on him. Martin's nipples had been sore because of Chris using those the night before, so the pain that morning was especially exquisite. Something clicked in Martin's brain then, as he remembered why Chris had the nipple clamps with him. Monday night he'd asked Martin to recommend a sex store, and when Martin had let himself into Chris's room Tuesday evening, he discovered that Chris had gone shopping and had bought several different sex toys, all of which Martin got treated to during the rest of the week. So, Chris had gone somewhere besides the conference center.

Martin sat up and looked toward the aisle, trying to see where the flight attendant was as she made her rounds. He needed to call Jack and since the attendant or pilot hadn't announced that they could now turn on their cell phones, the only phones available were those up in first class.

"Something wrong?" Danny asked.

Martin shook his head. "Who searched Chris's room?"

"Jack. Why?" Danny put the magazine down on his lap and turned his full attention to Martin.

"I just thought of something, and I need to talk to Jack about it. You can see down the aisle better than I can. Can I get past the flight attendant and her cart?"

Danny leaned out into the aisle, noting her position. "Looks like it. You might have to duck into a row to do it, but it is doable."

"Great." Martin got to his feet and began to get out of their row.

"I knew you'd be getting up sooner or later. Make sure you go to the john while you're up, okay? That way you might actually spend more time in your seat once you get back."

Martin paused, and he turned slightly to look at Danny. "I can make sure I get a soda from the flight attendant. Or take you up on that offer of tea."

"Right now I'd just settle for you getting your ass outta my face, Fitzie."

Martin laughed, then resumed moving until he was out in the aisle. "If she gets here before I get back, then I'd like a ginger ale, please."

"Sure thing," Danny replied, shaking his head. As he went back to his magazine reading, Martin headed toward the front of the plane. He soon found himself at the back of the first class section. 

Moving the curtain aside, he quickly got the attention of the first class attendant. There were only three people seated in first class, and Martin saw that he'd be able to have a relatively private conversation with Jack. He showed his badge to the flight attendant, letting the man know what he wanted. A few minutes later, Martin was seated and listening to the ringing on the other end of the line.

"Jack Malone."

"Jack, it's Martin. I remembered something that might be a lead. Back on Tuesday, Chris went toy shopping."

"Toy shopping?" Jack asked, and Martin could hear a hint of disbelief. "I didn't think that Larabee had any living children."

"Sex toys," Martin softly corrected.

There was a moment of silence on the other end, and Martin could hear Jack clearing his throat. "If by 'toys' you mean some odd looking clamps with alligator teeth, a whip and a short band of leather with a snap, then yes, those were there."

"There should be a receipt for them somewhere. I forgot it before, but Chris went to the store on Tuesday and bought them. And I think he might have been planning on going back there today. He didn't come out and directly say it, but he did hint at wanting to buy a few extra things for tonight."

"I don't suppose you also happen to know the name of this store, do you?" Jack's voice sounded strained, and Martin felt a stab of pity for the man. He was trying so hard to be open-minded about all this. 

"I do. It's one I recommended to him." Martin quickly gave Jack the name and the address of the place. "And if I remember correctly, they've got a security camera aimed at the door."

"Got it. I'll grab Sam and we'll head over there now. They might still be open."

Martin chuckled. "Oh, they're still open. They don't close until 3 am on Friday and Saturday nights. Any luck on his cell phone records yet?"

"Viv's still going over them. If you can't get to sleep once you reach your hotel, call and we can send you something over the internet to keep you busy." Jack sounded amused, but Martin knew the man was serious. The more eyes the better when it came to going over records.

"Sure thing. Oh, and Jack? Danny knows about Chris. I told him."

Again, there was a moment of silence. "You know you didn't have to do that, don't you?"

"I couldn't keep it from him, Jack. Not with us going out to Denver to dig into Chris's life. Maybe it won't make a difference with the investigation, but if it does, and Danny found out later and I hadn't told him…" Martin knew that Danny would be hurt if that had happened, hurt because he hadn't trusted him enough with the truth. And then that hurt would turn to anger, and Martin knew that he didn't want to have to deal with a pissed off Danny for the next couple of months.

"How'd he take it?"

"He just said 'okay' and that was that. I'm sure that I'll be in for an earful later. Like you, Danny can't resist giving a good lecture. But for now everything's okay." Martin couldn't help but smile. Being protective was one trait that Jack and Danny had in common, even if neither man would admit it.

"Good. You deserve all the lectures you get. Now, get off that phone while I'm still in the mood to okay this on your expenses."

"Right. Thanks, Jack."

Martin ended the call, thanked the flight attendant and headed for the lavatory, taking Danny's advice to heart. For once, he actually had to go. Martin knew that Danny thought that he suddenly became incontinent when flying, but the truth was that he just liked getting up and walking, and the lavatories were the only places to walk to and from. And if he was being extra truthful, then he would admit that he kinda got a kick out of moving past Danny as he got in and out of his seat. Who could blame him if he fantasized about Danny reaching out and groping his ass sometime? Hadn't happened yet and never would, but it was nice dream.

After washing up, Martin headed back down to his seat, noting that the flight attendant was now at the back of the plane. He paused by Danny's seat and grinned as he saw Danny trying to hold onto two cans of soda and two plastic cups full of ice.

"Took you long enough," Danny muttered. It looked as if Danny was trying to get to his feet, so before he could move, Martin started to slip into their row. 

"I can take two of those," Martin said as he grabbed the cups of ice from Danny, then turned and scooted past Danny's legs.

"You did take a piss, didn't you?" Danny asked as he lowered the tray from the back of the seat in front of him and placed the cans on it. "Because I'm not too anxious to have you slithering past again any time soon."

"Yes, Daddy, I tinkled," Martin replied. He set the cups down on the same tray and refastened his seat belt. "Thanks for the soda."

"No problem. Everything okay with Jack?" Danny reached over and lowered the tray for Martin to use and then moved a cup and a can over to it.

"Yep. Viv's going over the cell phone records now. And Jack said that if we can't sleep once we reach the hotel, we can call in and they'll get us hooked up so we can go over something. There's still Chris's home phone records and his financial records to go over."

"I'm sure we'll be dead to the world once we find out hotel and get settled in," Danny said with a chuckle. "Does Jack really think we'll be wide awake at that time of the morning?"

"Well, technically it won't be that late. Denver's two hours behind us, remember?"

"I hate time zone changes," Danny groused as he opened his own ginger ale. "Speaking of hotels, did Jack make us a reservation anywhere or are we on our own to find a place?"

"He didn't mention it to me, so I'm guessing we're on our own. I'm sure we can find something by the airport." Martin poured his soda, then frowned as he looked from his tray to Danny's tray then back again. "No peanuts or pretzels?" he asked.

"Jeez, enough with the pouting!" Danny reached into the seat pocket in front of him and pulled out two packs of pretzels. He handed one to Martin and opened the second one.

"Pretzel thief," Martin accused as he tore open his own bag. "I cannot believe that you would stoop so low as to steal my pretzels. Pretzels, for crying out loud! I could understand it if they were handing out peanuts. But to steal a man's pretzels…the only thing standing between me and starvation…" Martin shook his head.

"I'll buy you something to eat once we land," Danny said. "I can't have Jack or anyone else accusing me of letting you starve to death on a five hour flight."

"That's generous of you, Danny. I appreciate the concern." Martin munched happily on his pretzels, glad to be hungry after all of the tension he'd been feeling since discovering that Chris was missing. He was still worried about Chris, but now he had hope that Chris might have stopped at Lairs Delights on the way to the conference, and had not been planning to stop there afterward. They needed a break on the case, and Martin couldn't shake the feeling in his gut that this was going to be it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date originally published: April 10, 2009

The rest of the flight was uneventful. Martin pretended to nap, with Danny 'awakening' him every so often to talk. Martin even kept to his seat more than he usually would, giving Danny a break from having to be crawled over. Martin did actually fall asleep when they were about forty-five minutes away from Denver, and he found himself being gently wakened by Danny. He also found himself tucked under two more blankets, and when he looked questioningly at Danny, the man shrugged and stated that Martin had been shivering while asleep, and Danny wasn't going to risk bringing Martin back to New York with pneumonia.

They settled on a hotel by the airport and were in their room less than thirty minutes after the plane landed. Martin set up a laptop while Danny called Jack to let him know they were settled in at the hotel, then Martin logged onto the internet and connected to work. Within minutes they were taking turns looking at Chris's credit card information. Martin felt a surge of hope as he saw that there had been a charge made at Lairs Delights that morning. It might not have been much, but it at least narrowed down the time of Chris's disappearance. Jack told them that the shop had given them the security tapes for Tuesday and that morning, and he had already started to look through them. He also told them to call back if they found something interesting in the credit card records, and that he'd call them in the morning if they had any further leads from Chris's visit to the shop.

Martin was reading over Danny's shoulder when he suddenly yawned. "Sorry. I think my day is catching up to me."

"Up early again? You know, if you'd consider not running every day, then you might be able to sleep in a time or two," Danny teased as he turned his head to look at Martin.

Martin grinned. "You've got a good idea there. I think I'll take a pass on running later this morning."

Danny chuckled. "Why don't you go on and get ready for bed while I finish with this page? It'll take us all the way back to Sunday, which is when Larabee arrived in New York. If Jack wants further back than that, then he can have Viv or Samantha tackle the records."

"Sounds good to me." Martin went to the drawer that he'd claimed and pulled out a T-shirt and sweatpants, then headed for the bathroom where he'd already stowed the bag with his personal gear.

Once the door was shut, Martin began to strip off the rest of his clothing. He'd removed his suit jacket, shirt and tie earlier, and had been wearing just an undershirt and his suit pants while working, as had Danny. They didn't know how long they'd have to spend in Denver, and might need those shirts one more time, so it made sense to get them on hangers so the wrinkles could straighten out.

As Martin reached for his toothbrush, he caught sight of himself in the large mirror, and he paused as he looked at the various bruises and bite marks that Chris had left on his body. Martin's fingers lightly grazed each bruise, recalling when most of them were received. There were a few though, that he didn't remember, either because he was too caught up in what they were doing, or too far gone to notice any additional pain. His fingers lingered over the marks around his nipples, reminders of the alligator teeth clamps that Chris had bought for them. Martin smiled slightly as he remembered the look on Chris's face Tuesday evening when he'd arrived at the hotel room.

****************************************************************

Martin hesitated in front of Chris's door, the keycard in his hand. That morning, Chris had given him the key for the room, telling him that he could just let himself in whenever he arrived. Chris had sounded sincere, but he couldn't help but wonder if the man had really meant his words. What if he let himself in only to discover that Chris was with someone else and upset at being interrupted? Or what if Chris expected him to knock first?

Going back over that morning, Martin couldn't see where Chris's words could be interpreted in any other way. Taking a deep breath, he inserted the key, then jerked it back out of the lock as the light turned green, signaling that the lock was open. Martin turned the handle and stepped into the room, letting the door close behind him.

Chris was on the other side of the room, seated in the arm chair by the window. He looked at ease, and yet Martin couldn't shake the feeling that Chris also seemed to be expecting something as they looked at one another. And then he remembered the rest of Chris's instructions from that morning. He was to let himself in, lock the door and then strip, putting his clothes in the closet since it was directly by the door.

Martin turned to secure the door, taking a deep breath to steady himself. Turning back around, he toed off his shoes, then he pushed open the sliding door of the closet and placed them on the floor. His jacket was next, placed on a hanger before he removed his T-shirt. That was folded and put on the shelf. He then unbuttoned his jeans and slipped them off, folding them as well and putting them with his T-shirt. Naked, he closed the door, catching sight of himself in the mirrored surface. He'd left work and rushed home, showering quickly and then changing into comfortable clothing, even though he knew he wouldn't be wearing it for long. The cool air of the room wafted across his bare skin, an eruption of goose bumps following the touch. Chris liked to keep the room's temperature a little cooler, since once they started 'playing', things would heat up fast enough, and in more ways than one.

Looking up, Martin saw that Chris was smiling, and there was a bag on the floor in front of him. He smiled too as he recognized the bag as being from Lairs Delights. It looked as if Chris had been serious about wanting to purchase some toys for them to enjoy.

Remembering his place, he lowered his gaze to the floor and moved his legs slightly apart, then clasped his hands behind his back, assuming a classic pose of submission as he displayed himself for Chris and waited for orders on what to do next.

Martin didn't have to wait long.

"On your hands and knees," Chris said, his voice low. One thing that he had noticed when they first met was that Chris didn't need to raise his voice to be obeyed. It was as if the man expected anything he wanted to happen immediately and without question, so raising his voice simply wasn't necessary.

Martin dropped to his knees and stretched out a bit, distributing his weight between his knees and palms.

"Come to me."

Martin moved slowly toward Chris, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. Taking deep breaths, he soon calmed his racing pulse. He came to a stop as the bottom of the bag entered his range of vision. Remaining on all fours, he waited for Chris, all of his senses focused on the man seated before him.

Martin heard Chris reach into the bag, removing something. "Sit back," Chris ordered.

Martin sat back on his heels and rested his hands on his knees. He wanted so badly to look to see what Chris had bought, but he knew that looking without being given the okay to do so was something that would earn him a true punishment instead of the discipline that he liked. It was an internal battle of wills, but he managed to keep his gaze trained on the carpet in front of him.

Winning that battle earned him another victory when he felt Chris's fingers under his chin, directing him to look up. Chris smiled at him, and he couldn't help but feel warm inside at the obvious approval he saw in Chris's eyes. Chris's fingers remained under Martin's chin, but he moved his other hand into view, letting him see the short leather thong that he held. His cock throbbed as he easily imagined Chris securing that bit of leather around the base of his cock and balls, more or less preventing him from coming until Chris wanted him to come.

A cock ring had been one of the things that they'd talked about the night before. Other 'toys' that he had confessed to enjoying had included nipple clamps, whips and paddles, restraints, and blindfolds. All were things that Chris liked using, and he had confessed to knowing how to wield a whip effectively, to bring pain and pleasure, yet draw no blood. He risked a quick glance at the bag, trying to gauge if it was large enough to hold a whip or paddle and wondering just what else Chris had bought.

A chuckle from Chris made him look back at the man, knowing that he'd been caught. "Patience, Martin, patience. I intend to use each and every thing that's in that bag tonight." Chris's fingers tightened slightly on Martin's chin, but then Chris turned his hand so that Martin's chin was cupped in the palm of his hand, and Chris lightly stroked his fingers over Martin's cheek. He couldn't help but push his face toward that touch, and he slowly extended his tongue to softly lick at Chris's skin.

"You're such a beautiful slut, Martin. So expressive, so eager. And tonight, you're all mine." Chris sighed lightly, but kept stroking Martin's skin. "What do you want, Martin? Do you want me to put this on you, or do you want to see what else is in the bag first?"

God, he hated it when he felt so damn needy and was forced to make a choice between one good thing and another. One reason behind putting his pleasure into the hands of another was to avoid having to make any kind of a decision, but Chris wasn't having any of that. From the first moment they met, Chris had led things, but had also insisted on having Martin make choices along the way. Even being put on display in front of the waiter had been ultimately left up to him, and he knew that if he'd have told Chris that he wasn't comfortable with that, then Chris wouldn't have allowed that waiter to see one inch of him. But, Lord it had been so damn hot to be sucking Chris's cock and knowing that that waiter was watching him the entire time, wishing that it was his cock being sucked.

"Martin? I asked you a question." Chris looked amused at how long it was taking him to answer, but his fingers once more tightened against Martin's face.

"The cock ring, sir. I can be patient and wait to see what else you bought for our pleasure." So the choice hadn't been that difficult after all, and he was rewarded by having those wonderful fingers resume their stroking.

"Excellent choice. There's just one problem with it. You're hard, and it needs to go on when your cock is soft."

Chris placed the cock ring on the side table, and then moved the bag to one side. Sitting back, Chris gazed intently at him. "Play with yourself, Martin. I want to watch you make yourself come."

Martin obediently reached down and began to stroke his cock. He'd done this once already in front of Chris and knew that Chris would soon be directing him to do more than just stoke himself. Chris liked a good show, and Martin had no qualms about giving him one. Martin moaned softly as his hand moved over the heated flesh of his erection. While he would have much preferred Chris's hand against his cock, Martin had always enjoyed jerking off, even more so with an audience. It was so easy to imagine that it was someone else's hands on him, Danny's hands… No. He opened his eyes and looked straight at Chris, chasing away all images of Danny Taylor from his mind. Danny was for when he needed to fantasize, needed to pretend that they could ever be something more than co-workers or friends. He didn't need images of Danny right now, not with Chris sitting there, his own cock hard behind the dark blue jeans he was wearing.

Chris held his hand up, palm side out, silently directing him to stop. He did, even removing his hand from his cock. Chris reached into the bag and withdrew a package. The front of the package was facing Chris, so Martin didn't know what was in it, but judging from the size, he guessed that it was a set of nipple clamps. Restraints came in much larger packages, and so did whips, except for the very smallest ones meant to be used on the cock and balls.

"This should help you out," Chris said as he tore open the package and let the contents spill onto his lap. After tossing the empty packaging back into the bag, Chris reached into his lap and help up two nipple clamps. He held them out to Martin. "Put these on."

Martin hesitated slightly before reaching out to take the clamps from Chris. He'd played with his own nipples plenty of times, but he'd never put a nipple clamp on himself. It would hurt. It would hurt a lot, and he wasn't sure that he would be able to do this for Chris. For himself. It was one thing to be the recipient of pain when it was being inflicted on him by a top, but quite another thing to do the deed himself. Martin watched as Chris settled back into the chair, his eyes unreadable as he looked back at him.

Martin looked down at the clamps. The chain that linked them was of medium weight, one he knew he could handle as it pulled on the clamps. The clamps themselves were alligator style, and adjustable. Martin picked up the first clamp, making sure that it was to the fully open position. Reaching up to his chest, he wasn't all that surprised to find that his own nipples were already erect, making it easier for what he had to do. Taking a deep breath, he put the clamp in place, and then began to adjust it, tightening the clamp against his nipple, the pain slowly building which each adjustment. He tried hard to not gasp out loud, but the pain increased along with the pressure, and Martin was now determined to see just how much pain he could cause himself to feel. 

"That's enough," Chris's voice was firm and Martin instantly obeyed as he let go of the clamp. "Now the left one."

Martin repeated the process, once stopping when commanded to do so by Chris. Chris then sat forward and reached for the chain that swung freely between the two clamps, tugging on it and making Martin gasp from the new jolt of pain.

Smiling, Chris nodded. "Now you can get back to what you were doing. I didn't buy a butt plug or dildo, so you'll have to use your own fingers."

Acutely aware of Chris's grasp on the chain, Martin brought his left hand to his mouth, liberally wetting his first two fingers. As he began to stroke his cock with his right hand, Martin spread his thighs even further apart and began to slowly insert the first finger. Within a few minutes, he had worked up a rather nice rhythm of stroking his cock while fucking his own ass with his fingers. Every now and then Chris would tug at the chain, a motion that would send Martin's arousal one notch higher.

He had kept looking at Chris during this time, and the look in the other man's eyes was also doing a lot toward keeping Martin aroused. But he knew that he was nearing his orgasm, and Chris knew it, too. Chris pulled back on the chain, holding it taut and pulling Martin's nipples hard. The steady pain raced through Martin's body and settled in his groin. His hands moving faster, Martin held his breath as he waited for Chris to speak. It was one thing to be told to play with himself, and quite another to come when Chris had not yet given his permission to do so. Yes, Chris had at first told him to make himself come, but he could see by the look on Chris's face that he wanted to be the one controlling Martin's pleasure.

So close, so damn close. Martin closed his eyes, but immediately opened them as he felt a sharp yank on the chain. "Look at me, boy." Chris ordered, and Martin gazed directly into Chris's green eyes, now dark with desire. Chris pulled a bit harder on the chain, smiling at Martin's gasp of pain.

Leaning forward, Chris placed a quick kiss on Martin's slightly parted lips. He then began to pull steadily at the chain, the pain and discomfort slowly growing. "Come for me, Martin."

As with the rest of Chris's orders, Martin found himself quick and eager to obey, wanting nothing more than to see that look of approval in Chris's eyes.

*******************************************************************

By the time Martin returned from the bathroom, Danny had finished going over the credit card information for that Sunday. He hadn't learned anything useful, or at least nothing that was yet known to be useful. Larabee hadn't charged anything until he reached the hotel in New York, and even then, he'd only charged his room. If he'd gone out to eat anywhere, then he'd paid cash.

Danny shut down the computer and glanced up as Martin passed by him on the way to the bed that he'd chosen. Martin looked wiped out, and for a moment Danny felt guilty about teasing him about getting up early to run. Hopefully the few hours of sleep that they'd get would be enough to get the two of them through the next day. If not, then he was foreseeing a lot of caffeine in their future.

Martin crawled into bed just as quietly as he'd left the bathroom, and Danny took that as a sign that Martin wasn't in the mood to talk. Danny got to his feet and retrieved his gear, then went to get ready for bed. Unlike Martin, he didn't use anything for pajamas, opting instead to sleep in his undershorts. If it was cold, then he added more blankets, but never more clothing.

When Danny returned to the room, he could tell by the sound of Martin's breathing that the younger man was already asleep, which was good. It wasn't until his head hit the pillow that a stray thought settled long enough to be registered. When they'd spoken to Jack, he'd congratulated Martin on his guess about Lairs Delights, and at the time, it hadn't really registered with Danny. Oh, he remembered Martin calling Jack from the plane, and he sure as Hell knew what kind of store that was. What hadn't registered was how Martin had come up with that guess. It wasn't the kind of a store that Danny could picture Martin walking into, and even though Danny had hinted about what Larabee had been doing with his nights, he didn't really think that it warranted the leap in logic that resulted in them discovering that Larabee had shopped there. Sure, they'd have found it soon enough on the credit card info, but now they were one step ahead because of Martin.

Danny turned his head to the side, peering through the darkness at Martin's side of the room. He'd have to ask Martin about that hunch of his come morning. Well, later that morning, if he wanted to be technical about it. And there was no doubt at all, that when it came to Martin, it was technical all the way.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date originally published: April 11, 2009

The alarms from two cell phones echoed within the hotel room, and Danny bit back a groan as he pulled the covers up over his face. It was too soon to be awake, he thought. He smiled though, as he heard someone cursing softly. Seemed like Martin thought it was far too early, as well.

"Do you need the bathroom before I shower?"

Danny shook his head, hoping that Martin could see that despite the covers. He was counting on getting a little more sleep in by the time Martin was showered.

"Okay. Why don't you call Jack for an update while I'm in there? Save us some time."

His smile over the plan to get more sleep quickly turned into a frown as Martin shot down his plans. Sure, he had seniority on Martin, and could simply refuse to call, insisting that Martin do it instead. But Martin had a point. They still needed to go downstairs for breakfast, so calling New York now would give them more time to eat. Danny tossed the covers back, wishing that he'd paid more attention at the check-in desk. He knew that the place offered a breakfast, but he had no idea just what kind of breakfast it would end up being. In some places, a Continental Breakfast still meant pastries, coffee, tea and milk and maybe juice. In other places, it meant waffles, eggs, cereals, and the pastries and assorted other breakfast items one found in the more traditional places.

Scratching his belly, Danny grabbed his cell phone from the nightstand and dialed Jack's office number. While he was pretty sure that Jack and the others were still working, he didn't feel like taking the chance that Jack might have gone off somewhere to nap. By calling the office, he would get to talk to someone, even if it wasn't Jack. But Jack was awake, and he let Danny know that they were going through the tapes from Lairs Delights, and had a possible lead. When Larabee had left the store, a woman had stopped him in the doorway, and it looked as if they knew one another. They were now checking other days to see if she was a regular customer, and also to see if she'd run into Larabee when he'd been there on Tuesday. When they finished looking at the tapes, Jack was going to have the woman's image sent to both Danny and Martin's cell phones, so they could see if anyone from Larabee's office recognized her.

Danny ended the call and tossed his phone to the side, remembering that he wanted to ask Martin about his hunch that Larabee had gone shopping at a sex store. The sound of the shower came to a sudden stop, and Danny couldn't help but imagine how Martin looked right then, with water beading along his skin; skin that was flushed slightly from the hot water. It was so easy to see one lone water droplet making its way down Martin's belly and to the base of his cock, following that to the cockhead, where it would quiver for a few seconds before dropping to the bottom of the tub. Danny's cock stirred and began to tent his shorts, and he was tempted to see if he could get himself off before Martin returned, but sanity got the better of him. He could jerk off in the shower, where there was less chance of being caught by the object of his fantasies.

Danny got to his feet and grabbed his clothes for the day, holding them so that they'd cover his erection. He sat down on the edge of the bed, waiting for Martin to exit the bathroom. After what felt to be twenty minutes, but was actually only five, the door opened and Martin stepped out into the room, wearing one of the large bath towels and nothing else.

"It's all yours," Martin said as he walked over to the dresser and began to get his own clothes out.

Danny's cock jumped at Martin's words, wishing that the man meant that what Danny was seeing was all his, but Danny had less of a worry due to the strategic placement of his own clothing. "Thanks. I'll fill you in on what Jack had to say later."

"Okay."

Danny headed for the bathroom, and he paused in the doorway, looking back at Martin. It was early enough that there wasn't much natural light seeping in from around the curtains, so the only light in the room was that from the bathroom. Taking a second look, Danny thought that there was something wrong with Martin's body. If he didn't know any better, he'd have sworn that as he'd passed Martin, he'd seen lash marks on Martin's shoulders, and that he'd seen love bites on Martin's belly reflected in the mirror. The love bites could easily be explained by a new girlfriend. But the lash marks? Danny had never heard Martin talking about letting a woman take a whip to him, but then again, that could explain how Martin knew what could be bought at Lairs Delights. Shaking his head, Danny headed into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He was imagining seeing things in the near darkness of the room, that was all. Martin Fitzgerald was too straight-laced to be indulging in that kind of sexual activity. Hell, the man probably insisted on having sex with the lights off, he was that straight-laced.

Danny showered, then shaved and began to dress. Whenever he traveled, Danny always packed the same way; black socks, white undershorts and undershirt, and shirts, ties and suits that matched one another. That way, he could grab his clothes in the darkened room and not have to worry about whether or not they would match. He brushed his teeth and put on his dress shirt, then stepped out of the bathroom to grab his suit.

Martin was already dressed, and was seated on the edge of the nearest bed putting on his shoes. He'd opened the drapes and the early morning light was flooding the room. It wasn't the brightest light, too early for that. But it was enough for Danny to wonder if Martin had turned on any lights when picking out what he was going to wear. Or even if he'd had the lights on at home when he packed. If he didn't know better, Danny would have sworn that Martin was color blind, but he'd heard the man describe suspects and vehicles accurately, so he knew that Martin didn't have a problem recognizing his colors. No, his problem seemed to be with recognizing which colors went together and which did not.

Danny pulled on his suit pants. "You know Fitzie, one of these days, I'm going to have to take you shopping. Someone has to teach you how to pick out clothing that goes together."

Martin looked up, a slight smile on his face. "And you think that you could teach me that? I'll have you know that I already know that just about any shirt color goes with blue jeans. What else is there to know?"

Ah yes. Martin's penchant for casual dress was a pair of Levi 501s and a T-shirt or sweatshirt of some kind. If it was colder weather, you might even catch Martin wearing a shirt over his T-shirt, or even wearing a sweater. The man would never make the cover of "GQ".

Danny finished tucking his shirt in, then zipped up his pants and walked over to Martin. "Well, for one thing. You could learn that a burgundy and white striped tie doesn't really go with a blue and white striped shirt and dark brown suit."

Martin's smile grew, and Danny felt his heart flutter at that sight. Damn, but he loved it when Martin smiled! "In your world, maybe. And I've got on burgundy socks and brown shoes, so that sort of ties it all together."

Danny sighed heavily to let Martin know that he was trying his fashion patience. He stepped in front of the dresser and began to knot his tie. "At least we can rest easy that nobody will ever look at you and automatically know that you're a Fed. Not that you don't do your best to try for that look. But no, you'll never stand out that way."

Martin got to his feet. "You say that as if it's a bad thing."

Danny looked at his own reflection, then over at Martin and shuddered. Compared to Martin, he looked like an advertisement for Armani. Not that he could ever afford an Armani suit, but damn, sometimes Martin's suits looked like the sale rack at K-Mart. The really irritating thing though, was that Martin didn't buy cheap suits. There were people out there who designed those hideous things, then put high price tags on them and had the gall to let someone walk out of the shop with one of those suits! Danny looked back at his reflection; white shirt, dark blue suit, dark blue tie with light blue stripes in it. Danny had brought one other shirt with him, and it was also mostly white, but with light blue stripes running through it. His other suit was a gray one with blue pinstripes. His other tie was a solid medium blue color. And then there was the shirt and tie he'd worn on the plane.

"Here. You ready to go?" Martin asked as he handed out Danny's suit coat, cell phone, gun and badge. "I'm starving."

"The day you're not starving is the day I personally drive you to the emergency room," Danny replied as he clipped on the gun and shield, then put on his coat and slipped his phone into a pocket. He picked up his badge from the dresser top, then nodded. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

"Let's go." Leading the way, Martin opened the door and they headed for the elevators. As they made their way to the lobby, Danny told Martin what Jack had told him. 

"Hopefully someone there will recognize her," Martin said, but he no longer looked as cheerful as he had when they'd stepped into the elevator. Having a suspect was a good thing, or so Danny thought.

"Maybe he has a girl on the side that he's kept quiet about?" Danny wondered out loud. "If so, then I wonder if she knew about what Larabee was up to every night? Maybe she got jealous and got back at him?"

"Maybe."

The elevator doors opened up and Danny grinned as the aroma of freshly made waffles hit him. It was going to be a good breakfast after all, even if he did have to make the waffles himself.

 

Danny had been in Heaven over by the waffle maker. They had put out two kinds of batter, one regular and one buttermilk, and Danny couldn't resist making one of each. There were pecans chopped up for people to put in their oatmeal, and Danny had added some to each waffle. Once the waffles were ready, he threw all health concerns to the wind and added liberal amounts of butter to each waffle, then smothered them with real maple syrup. Danny grabbed a cup of coffee then went to where Martin was already seated.

As he cut into his waffles, Danny glanced over at Martin, then frowned as he saw that his normally starving partner was picking at oatmeal of all things. Martin never ate healthy food, and Danny had fully expected to come to the table to find that Martin had a plate full of bacon and eggs, toast on the side, coffee and juice.

"Second time around?" Danny asked. He might have taken more time making the waffles than he'd thought, and Martin could have already eaten one meal.

"No." Martin scooped up a spoonful of oatmeal. "Not just as hungry as I thought."

Danny speared a cut section of a waffle and held it out toward Martin. "Try this. Buttermilk with pecans."

Martin shook his head. "No thanks. I don't think my stomach can handle the syrup right now."

Danny frowned. Martin never complained about having anything sweet first thing in the morning, either. Taking a bite, Danny closed his eyes in appreciation of the medley of tastes in that one bite. Buttermilk, syrup and the pecans all melded together to form the perfect bite. They ate in silence, which wasn't all that unusual. Both of them liked their food, and being together in silence just seemed natural. But this silence didn't feel comfortable at all, and Danny could feel a tension coming from Martin that he didn't particularly like feeling. Martin had been in a good mood back in their room, but now Danny found himself glad that he wouldn't be seeing Martin all day. A tense, sad or upset Martin tended to be a pissy-acting Martin, and that just brought out all kinds of unkind things on Danny's part. Mostly they were attempts to get Martin into a better mood. It was odd that Danny could drive a sad or upset Martin into anger and then into a good mood, but was unable to drive a sad or upset Martin directly into that same good mood. The one time he'd mentioned it to Viv, she'd replied that it was karma and that Danny simply deserved being on the receiving end of righteous Fitzgerald anger.

Danny felt movement to the side and he looked up as Martin got to his feet. "We should get on the road."

Danny saw that while he'd eaten almost all of his waffles, Martin had barely eaten half of his oatmeal. "Sure. I'd like to grab a bagel for later."

"I'll take care of this." Martin said as he began to gather up the debris from breakfast. 

"Thanks." Danny went over to the bagels and grabbed two of them, one for him and one for Martin. Whatever it was that was bothering Martin would pass, and then he'd be hungry and thankful for the food. 

Danny met Martin at the door and handed the napkin wrapped bagel to him. "It's a raisin bagel, in case you get hungry later."

"Thanks." Martin shoved the bagel into his pocket. "Did you want to drive?"

"Sure." Martin tossed the car keys to him and they headed to the parking lot. As he got settled behind the wheel, Danny found himself looking over at Martin, trying to determine if Martin was simply feeling low or if he was coming down with something. Martin preferred to do the driving whenever they went anywhere, and the times when Danny did drive, it was because he'd insisted on it. It was rare for Martin to come straight out and ask him if he wanted to drive.

Danny took a quick look at the map that the car rental company had provided them, and then he headed out. They were just ahead of the morning rush, and it didn't take all that long for them to reach the downtown area. Danny turned into the parking garage and easily found a spot. Then they headed upstairs to check in with the local FBI office. The secretary there called downstairs to security and then let them know that Team 7 was not yet in the building. Having nothing better to do, Danny and Martin went to the break room and had more coffee. Martin had grabbed the sports page from a newspaper that someone had left behind, and Danny made do with the front section. They'd been there for about ten minutes when the secretary came back to tell them that some of the members of Team 7 were arriving. She gave them the floor number, and Danny followed Martin to the elevators.

Federal buildings might look different from one another on the outside, but once you were inside the building itself, each and every floor seemed identical. When they stepped out onto the 11th Floor, it was easy enough to find Team 7's office area. There were a few men already in the bullpen, and Danny led the way inside.

"I'm looking for Vin Tanner," Danny said as he held out his badge to show the first person he saw, a tall, mustached man with dark hair. Since they were all Feds, he didn't see the need to add titles to the introductions. "I'm Danny Taylor, and this is Martin Fitzgerald…"

The sound of someone choking, or rather trying to not choke came from behind him, and Danny turned around in time to watch as Martin rushed off in the direction of the men's room. Frowning, Danny turned back around and this time he found himself face to face with a man who looked enough like Martin to be mistaken for his twin.

"I'm Vin Tanner," the other man said, his voice slightly raspy and with a decidedly Texas lilt to it. "Your partner okay?"

Danny knew he was staring, but he couldn't help it. Vin Tanner's hair was the same color as Martin's, but it was long enough to curl along the collar of his shirt. It made Danny wonder if Martin's hair would curl that way if he let it get that long. 

The guy with the mustache looked at Danny questioningly and Danny knew that he'd seen Martin and had noticed the resemblance. Apparently though, Martin had rushed out before anyone else had seen him.

Danny looked back at Vin Tanner. "I don't think he's feeling well. He barely ate breakfast. We got in late and didn't get much sleep."

"That, and the time zone difference, can certainly mess you up," someone said, and Danny turned slightly to his right to see that the speaker was a tall, African-American man.

"Seems that way. We can get started without Martin. I don't know all of what Jack told you, but we were thinking that we could cover more ground if we split up. I'll stay here and talk with most of you as we go over old cases, and Martin will go out to Mr. Larabee's house to see if he can find any leads there."

The three men nodded, and the one with the mustache pointed to a chair. "Might as well get comfortable. We've got two more men coming in, Ezra Standish and Josiah Sanchez. Another team member is here, but he's in Chris's office getting the computer turned on in case you need to access it. Ah, J.D.," the man smiled at the much younger looking man who emerged from the nearby, glass-walled office. "This is Danny Taylor, one of the FBI agents sent from New York. Agent Taylor, this is J.D. Dunne. He's more or less our computer expert."

Danny nodded in greeting. "It'll be easier if you guys just stick with my first name, and Martin won't mind that, either." Danny sat down at the chair indicated. "And you are?"

"Ah, shit, sorry about that," the man said with a nervous laugh. "Chris being missing has just…" he shook his head.

"What he's tryin' to say is that he's Buck Wilmington," Tanner said.

"Exactly," Buck agreed.

"That this is Nathan Jackson," Tanner added.

Danny knew that Buck Wilmington was Larabee's former partner from the Denver P.D., and would be a good source of information about Larabee's past. He couldn't help but wonder if Wilmington knew about what it was that Larabee liked to do with other men. Hell, he wondered if any of them had any clue about what apparently turned on their boss.

"We do have one possible lead," Danny told them. "As Mr. Larabee was headed for the conference center yesterday, he stopped off to do some shopping. As he was leaving the store, a woman stopped him at the door. According to my boss, they seemed to know one another, and he's going to be sending her picture to us. He first wanted to make sure that Mr. Larabee hadn't seen this woman earlier in the week, at another visit to that store. We've got enough to look through without chasing false leads."

The others agreed with that, and they all settled in to wait for Martin and the rest of Team 7.

Wilmington kept looking from Danny to Tanner, and he couldn't help himself any longer. "Okay, so am I the only one who noticed just how much Vin and your partner look alike?"

Danny grinned. "I noticed it right off."

Jackson shook his head. "Sorry. All I saw was his back as he headed for the men's room. Speaking of which, he's been in there for a bit. Someone should go check on him."

"I'll go. I know that your minds have been working overtime since yesterday, but I'd like for you to think back over the past few weeks. Was Mr. Larabee acting oddly, or did anything happen that had him worried or upset? Any little thing, no matter how inconsequential you think it might be, can be a help to us."

Danny headed for the men's room, leaving them to their thoughts. He knew that if it was Jack missing, he'd be hard pressed to pinpoint any one thing that would have upset the man. Jack got upset or angry with people and incidents on a regular basis, so it'd be difficult to try to nail down one thing that stood out more than the others.

When Danny stepped into the men's room, he saw that Martin was at the sink, rinsing out his mouth. He looked pale to Danny's eyes, but that could have also been the horrible lighting in the room. "You okay, partner?"

Martin nodded as he spit out the water. "Sorry about that."

"Your stomach upset or was it just the surprise of seeing your own face on someone else's body?" Danny asked.

Martin looked at him sharply, then quickly returned his attention to the sink. "A bit of both," he admitted as he began to splash water on his face.

"Okay." Danny grabbed some paper towels and handed them to Martin once the man was done. "Most of the team is here. We're waiting on two of them. The one who looks like you is Vin Tanner, the second-in-command."

Martin closed his eyes and Danny swore that the man became paler. "Name mean anything to you?"

Martin shook his head, then opened his eyes. "No. Go on."

"The guy with the mustache is Buck Wilmington. He was Larabee's partner when they were on the Denver P.D. together." Martin nodded. "The black guy is Nathan Jackson, and the young guy is J.D. Dunne. He's already got Larabee's computer booted up for us. We're waiting on Ezra Standish and Josiah Sanchez. I let them know about the woman, and also about our plans to split things up. They were good with that idea."

"Who's going to the house with me?" Martin asked as he balled up the used paper towels and tossed them away.

"We didn't talk about that yet. I can ask Tanner to go with you, give you two a chance to get to know one another and find out if you might be related," Danny said, only half-joking. Two people couldn't look that much alike and not be related.

Martin shook his head. "I'd prefer to not be left alone with him."

The door was pushed open and Jackson stuck his head through the opening. "Ezra and Josiah just got here."

"Thanks," Danny said. He noticed that Jackson was looking intently at Martin. "His stomach was a bit upset."

"I *can* talk, you know," Martin said as he stepped toward the door. "I'm Martin Fitzgerald."

"Nathan Jackson. Aside from knowing my way around explosives, I'm also the team's tactical medic. So if your stomach keeps bothering you, let me know and I can find something around here to help get it settled down."

"I appreciate that, but I think I'm just over-tired and reacting to the time change," Martin said. 

Danny followed Martin and Jackson back to the bullpen. The other two team members were there, a nicely dressed man who looked to be about his age, and an older man. They were quickly introduced as Ezra Standish and Josiah Sanchez. Everyone except Wilmington and Tanner seemed to want to stare from Martin to Tanner, and Danny was expecting a flurry of questions about their resemblance, but none came.

Wilmington got to his feet. "Danny told us about the idea of splitting up, so I'm going to take you to Chris's place," he said to Martin. "You two might as well know now that we're not just co-workers. Chris is our friend and we hang out together. We've each got keys to one another's homes. Or apartments as the case might be."

Martin nodded. "I'm ready to go when you are."

"Let's go. The sooner we get done there, the sooner we can go over to the precinct house and go over the old cases from when Chris was a cop. I was there yesterday and had them all pulled out and set aside in an interrogation room for us."

Martin nodded, then waved goodbye to Danny as he followed Wilmington out of the bullpen.

Danny settled into a chair at what looked to be an unused desk, then he turned his attention to the rest of the team. "All right. Why don't we start by talking about last week. I understand that Mr. Larabee had been asked to give a presentation at this conference? Was he excited about that, worried about it?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date originally published: April 11, 2009

As Martin followed Buck Wilmington to the parking garage, he was relieved that the man didn't seem to want to talk. He wasn't sure that he could handle trying to have a conversation, not until his stomach and head were a bit more settled. It had been bad enough when Danny had brought up the idea that Chris had been seeing a woman while in New York. The feeling of dread and betrayal that had swept through Martin at those words had taken him by surprise. He'd been in it for the sex, right? There was no way that he was in love with Chris. Liked him just fine, but love? No. Definitely not. So why then those feelings when Danny mentioned that woman?

But those feelings paled when compared to the ones that had hit Martin the moment he saw that one of Chris's team looked like him. That feeling of betrayal was there again, only ten times worse than earlier. And then there was the feeling of being used by Chris. Martin had been so damn careful to make sure that none of his feelings for Danny crept into his time with Chris, and at the time, Martin had been pretty certain that he'd been the full focus of Chris's attention. Now though, he didn't know what to think. He so clearly remembered that brief look of recognition that had been in Chris's eyes when they'd spotted one another outside of the Falcon. At the time, he had simply seen it as some kind of sign that he and Chris were meant to go off together. But now he found himself wondering if he'd been nothing more than a stand-in for the boyfriend who couldn't get away from Denver. Or perhaps a stand-in for Chris's fantasies over a co-worker and friend. God, this was getting more complicated by the minute!

Martin's thoughts were brought back to the present when he heard the sound of a car door being unlocked. He saw that they were standing in front of an old, red pickup truck, and Wilmington motioned him toward the passenger door. Martin got in and put on his seat belt before settling back against the seat.

Wilmington was doing the same, and as he turned the key, he looked over at Martin. "Chris's place is a good forty minute drive from here, and that's on a day without traffic. This time of the morning, it might take us an hour. Danny said that you guys didn't get much sleep last night, so if you want to try to get in a nap on the way, I won't mind. We'll have plenty of time to talk about Chris once we're at the ranch."

Martin nodded. "Thanks, but I'm good for now. Chris has a ranch?"

Wilmington smirked, "We call it that, but it's not anything like you're thinking. Just some decent acreage. He does have a barn and horses. A few of us keep our horses out there, too. Even though it's a good distance from town, we all gather out there just about every weekend. He's got the most room in his house, and if we want to play touch football or something, he's got the yard for it."

"Not a real cowboy then," Martin commented. He'd jokingly called Chris that one night. Chris had grinned all the while declaring that nobody got away with calling him 'cowboy', and then he punished Martin quite nicely for doing so.

Wilmington laughed, "No. Doesn't stop Junior from calling him that from time to time. Drives Chris crazy when he does it, and even though he threatens to shoot him if he keeps it up, it doesn't phase him at all."

"Junior?" There'd been one night when Chris had called him 'junior'. The man hadn't really noticed it, just kept on with what he was doing, and it hadn't happened again. Martin had ignored it, but now…oh, God, please don't let Vin Tanner and this Junior be one and the same. But then if they weren't, then that meant that someone else on the team was Junior, and that would mean that Chris had the hots for not one, but two members of his team. Martin's stomach did a slow flip, and he had to bite back the moan that tried to crawl out of his throat.

"We all call Vin by that. Drives him crazy, too. But he doesn't threaten to shoot us. He just stares us down," Wilmington replied. "Hey, you okay? You're looking a little pale. Want me to pull over?"

Martin shook his head. "I'm okay. There's nothing left in my stomach to come back up. I'm just sorry that you're the one stuck with me for the morning."

"No problems, my friend. I don't travel well, either." He reached out and turned the radio on. "Got any preferences?"

Martin shook his head. "Not really. The way I see it, it's your truck, your choice."

Wilmington snickered. "I wish Chris would think that way. No matter who's doing the driving, Chris commandeers the radio or CD player." Wilmington pushed a button that changed the band from radio to CD player, and the sounds of a Jimmy Buffett song filled the cab. "You go on and try to get some shut-eye, and even if you can't sleep, maybe you can get enough rest so that your stomach will settle down. There's a great diner not that far from Chris's place, and we can stop there and get something to go and eat it at his house. We can't have you going all day without eating. Chris would have my hide if I let you faint from hunger. We do have an image to uphold at the ATF, and returning Feebies to the Federal Building in an ambulance just wouldn't do at all."

Martin chuckled at that image, glad that Wilmington had no clue about his father. The man would probably pull into the parking lot of a restaurant right then if he knew that he was with the Deputy Director's son. Closing his eyes, Martin rested his head against the back of the seat, hoping that Wilmington was right and he could at least get some rest. He tried his best to put Chris and all of the confusing thoughts about the man, out of his head. Martin had the feeling that if he had all the time in the world, he'd never quite manage to sort out everything that he was feeling and thinking.

The next thing he knew, someone was gently shaking his shoulder. He opened his eyes and wondered just where in the Hell he was and who the man was who was seated beside him in the cab of a pickup truck. For a few moments that confusion was all Martin knew, and then the memory of where he was and what he was doing came flooding back, the pain of not knowing what had happened to Chris so great that it almost choked him. Then the pain of knowing that he'd been used, played so excellently by Chris.

"Feelin' any better?" The man, Buck Wilmington, Martin now remembered, asked.

Martin thought about it for a second, then he nodded. He was feeling better physically at least. "Yeah, I am. This the diner you were talking about?" Martin could see that they were in a parking lot of place that reminded him of a New York diner. If this was the place, then he'd been asleep for about an hour, and that was all to the good.

"Sure is." Wilmington nodded. "They've got a meatloaf special that can't be beat, but they only offer it on Tuesdays. Today's special is roast beef, but they serve everything on the menu at all hours."

"How are the cheeseburgers?" Martin asked, figuring his stomach could handle one of those.

Wilmington slowly grinned. "To die for, my friend, to die for. C'mon."

They got out of the truck and went inside. The diner wasn't much on looks inside, but the aroma from the food made his mouth water. From the take-out counter, he could see a few tables that had people at them, enjoying a late breakfast. The food, like the diner food back home, was plentiful and looked good. They both ordered cheeseburgers and fries, and Martin added a soda to his order, while Wilmington ordered coffee. Twenty minutes later, they were back on the road, and five minutes after that, Wilmington was pulling into the long driveway that lead up to Chris's house.

Martin looked at the house, trying to pretend that this was a normal case and he didn't know the man who lived there. It was a modest ranch style house, situated on a large lot. The yard around the house was well maintained, and as Wilmington came to a stop around the back of the house, Martin could see the corral and barn. There were horses out in a field just beyond the barn, and Wilmington explained that Chris had hired a local teenager to put the horses out every morning and bring them in at night, feeding and watering them. There was also a black pickup parked close to the house, and Martin guessed that it was Chris's personal vehicle. They got out of the truck and headed to the house.

Wilmington stopped on the deck that stretched along the entire back of the house. "It's such a nice day, I thought we could eat out here."

Martin nodded and sat his bag of food down on the table. There was an umbrella in the middle of the table, furled and tied down, but they wouldn't need shelter from the sun, as it wasn't yet high enough to be a bother. 

They sat down and were soon busy eating. Martin was a bit surprised at how hungry he suddenly felt, and guessed that he was more right than he'd known about his stomach being upset due to lack of sleep and not just to everything else going on.

"I got a question for you," Wilmington said as soon as he had half of his cheeseburger eaten.

"Shoot." Martin's burger was almost gone, so he didn't mind talking now that his initial hunger pangs were satisfied.

"Back at the office, your partner called Chris 'Mr. Larabee', but you use his first name. Any reasoning behind that? Some kind of Federal interrogation tactic that we don't know about?" The man was smiling, so Martin hoped that meant that he wasn't upset that he'd been using Chris's first name.

"Danny likes to be more formal when talking to friends of the missing person. I prefer to be more personal. I find that I tend to get a better feel for the person if I think of them by their first name."

Wilmington nodded. "It's so damn wrong to be thinking of Chris as a missing person. The man has an uncanny sense of direction, you know? You can blindfold him, take him out in the woods and leave him there and he'll find his way back in next to no time. Woods, city, it doesn't matter, Chris can find his way around. I just can't picture him getting lost in New York."

"It's pretty rare that a missing person is someone who has gotten lost," Martin admitted. "With Chris's background, the odds are that someone has grabbed him, most likely for revenge. The store he went to yesterday was just a few blocks from the conference center. If he'd been mugged and left in an alley, he'd have been found by last night. We had the local cops going over that immediate area with a fine toothed comb."

Martin wiped his mouth and reached for his soda, feeling a bit relieved that he could talk about this so calmly. "I know this is hard on you, Buck. But can you tell me about when his wife and son were killed? All we know is that Chris was the intended target."

Wilmington sighed as he leaned back in his seat. "Chris and I were working homicide with the Denver P.D. back then. We had a suspect that was picked up in Mexico and we went down there to get him once the extradition went through. The officials didn't give us any problems, but it still took us a day longer than we'd originally planned on. We got back about three hours after Sarah and Adam were killed. It was a car bomb, and the M.E. said that they died instantly. The investigation centered on Chris being the target, but we never found any evidence linking any one single person to it. Or any group, for that matter. We went over all of our past cases, but there was nothing. Yeah, there were some people who had reason to be pissed with Chris for putting them away, but the majority of them were either still in prison at that time, or dead. A few were out, but had turned their lives around."

"Were they living here when it happened?" Martin asked. He couldn't imagine staying on in the house if that were the case. Hell, he couldn't really imagine going on if he'd lost his family in one fell swoop.

Wilmington nodded. "Yeah. Sarah was crazy about this place. She loved that it was far enough away from Denver to be isolated, yet close enough to do real shopping when the shopping bug bit her. The commute was Hell; still is for that matter. But none of that mattered. They were a happy couple, and when Adam came along, you couldn't have found a more proud and loving father than Chris Larabee."

"When did this happen?" Martin asked. If they'd eliminated suspects back then for the car bombing, the odds were those same suspects wouldn't be in contention for Chris being missing now, especially if the car bombing had been recent.

"Back in '98," Wilmington replied. "Chris resigned almost immediately, and he pretty much did nothing except drink for about six months. Then he got an offer to head up a new team with the ATF. He recruited me soon after that. Homicide just wasn't the same without him," Wilmington smiled.

"So Chris didn't have much time to make new enemies as a cop," Martin noted as he finished off his fries. "But plenty of time to add new ones with his work with the ATF."

Wilmington nodded. "Pretty much. I did check on the most probable suspects from the car bombing, but those who are out of prison have alibis. And so far, the ones who were cleared back then are still clear now. The police are following up on them. The ones who are in prison also seem to be checking out with regard to using anyone on the outside to do their dirty work for them. Most of them simply never had those kinds of connections or that kind of power."

"That doesn't mean that didn't change over the years inside. There's been many a nobody who became a someone while doing time." Martin was putting his trash into the bag when his cell phone rang. He looked down and noticed that it was a message and not a call. "We've got a photo of the woman who Chris ran into at the store yesterday. Do you recognize her?"

Martin handed his phone over to Wilmington. The other man looked at the picture, his brows furrowed in concentration. "I don't know her, but I think I recognize her. Let's get on inside. I need Chris's photo album." Wilmington handed the phone back as he got to his feet.

Martin followed Wilmington into the house, not sure of just how he felt about going into Chris's home without Chris being there. Their relationship had been kept at a rather superficial level on purpose, and now here he was, getting ready to pry into the more intimate areas of the man's life.

The first thing that Martin noticed as he walked into the mud room was that the house smelled of Chris. The man had been gone for almost an entire week, yet his scent skill permeated the place. And it wasn't the smell of cologne, but Chris's own unique scent. If Martin had been alone and not had so many different emotions swirling around his head, he'd have been hard in a heartbeat, just from that smell.

As they walked toward the den, Wilmington gave a rather general tour of the house. Kitchen, living room, den. The rest of the house Martin would see later, when he went to do his snooping thing. It was a part of the job that he hated the most at times, even if it often gave them the best leads. A person expected privacy, and it just felt wrong to be invading it, even if it was done to save that person's life.

The den seemed to him to be more of a library than a true den. There was a desk, complete with a computer set-up. But there were also bookcases and a recliner was tucked in the corner next to a reading lamp. As Wilmington pulled a photo album out from one shelf, Martin looked over the book titles, not surprised to find several different genres present. Chris seemed to be a varied reader, liking everything from historical books to science fiction and fantasy. He then went to look at the photographs that were displayed on the walls of the room. There were several of a woman and a young boy, and Martin figured that they were of Sarah and Adam, especially after he saw a few others that included Chris with them. There were also some older photos that seemed to be of a younger Chris and his family. There were also photographs of Chris with his team. Some were official shots, taken when the team was being presented awards of some kind, but the rest were all casual shots. Some taken there at Chris's place, and some taken at what looked to be a bar and grill.

"Let me see that picture again," Wilmington asked, and Martin walked over to the desk where the man was seated, the photo album open on the desk top. Martin pulled out his phone and pulled up the image, then leaned over to look at the open page of the album. He immediately saw the resemblance between the woman in the photograph with a younger Chris and the woman in the photo on his cell phone.

"Definitely the same woman," Martin said.

Wilmington nodded. "Her name is Ella Gaines. I never met her, but Chris has talked about her a time or two. They parted ways right before Chris started working with the police department. From what Chris said, she was pretty wild, but then, so was he. I can see him wanting to get together with her again, to reminisce over old times, but I can't see him missing out on that presentation to do that. He'd have made arrangements to meet her later yesterday."

Martin was already dialing Jack, knowing that his boss would want the name of that woman now so that they could try to track her down in New York. "Hey, it's Martin. Buck Wilmington recognized the woman as someone that Chris knew years ago. Her name is Ella Gaines. That's G-A-I-N-E-S." Wilmington nodded at Martin's spelling of the name. "Did she? And they didn't talk? I see. No, we just got to the house about twenty minutes ago, and we'll be going over their old cases once I've had a look around here. Right. Bye."

Martin ended the call and looked at Wilmington. "She apparently was at the store earlier this week, too. Chris went there on Tuesday, and she walked into the store about two minutes after he did. They can't tell on the surveillance footage if Ella and Chris talked at that time, but Chris left alone. And then she left a few minutes afterward."

"Almost like she was tailing him." Buck looked as concerned as he sounded.

Martin nodded. If Chris had talked with his old girlfriend on Tuesday, then surely he'd have said something? Unless he didn't want to get together with her to talk about old times, but was after something more intimate.

Wilmington cleared his throat. "You haven't said the name of the store. Is that because you're keeping it secret or because you're afraid that you'll get Chris in trouble with the rest of us if you say it? Because if it's the latter, I can assure you that I would not be surprised if you told me that he wasn't in there buying souvenirs. The others might be a bit surprised, though. But, I've known Chris a long time, and I know all about his dark side, he talked about it often enough. And I know that he found someone this week to spend time with. He would call to check in on us during their morning break at the conference, and he mentioned it more than once."

Martin wasn't sure what to say to that. He couldn't just blurt out that he was that someone, because he didn't know just how much Wilmington really knew about Chris. He figured that it was better to pretend that he knew nothing about Chris than to admit to something that would undermine the friendship those two shared. "You're right, it wasn't a gift shop. It was a sex store."

Wilmington smirked and nodded. "Thought so. I tell you, when Chris talked about this person, he sounded like a kid in a candy store who'd just found out that everything was free."

Again, Martin didn't know what to say. If Chris had been that happy about what they were doing, then maybe that meant that Vin Tanner hadn't been the person on his mind the whole time. Maybe.

"I've got to go through his things," Martin said. He reached into his pocket and frowned as he discovered the bagel that Danny had given him and not the latex gloves that he'd been looking for. The other pocket held them though, and Martin quickly slipped them on. "Some people find it disconcerting to watch as we go through their loved one's things, so if you want to stay in here, that's fine with me. I could use your help in here, anyway. I'm going to need to check his computer."

"I can get it turned on for you. I'd offer to show you the rest of the house, but all that's left is the bathroom and two bedrooms, and you'll find them easy enough. There's also a bathroom off of Chris's room."

"Thanks. This shouldn't take too long." Martin left the den and headed down the hallway toward what he thought would be the master bedroom. It was best to get the most personal room out of the way first. As when he'd walked into the house, Martin immediately smelled Chris's scent when he stepped into the bedroom, much stronger this time, and his body didn't hesitate to react. Martin paused in the doorway, biting back a moan as his cock pushed against his pants, reacting to Chris's smell. But a long look at the king-sized bed that dominated the room, wondering if Chris had fucked Vin Tanner there, put a quick end to his arousal. Maybe choosing to come to Chris's house wasn't the best idea. Maybe staying at the office and having to look at Vin Tanner would have been easier. And maybe pigs would sprout wings and fly?

By the time Martin finished searching the bedroom, he was beginning to wonder if Chris was having any kind of a sexual relationship, let alone one with Vin Tanner. The nightstands held nothing of interest, and seemed to be mostly collectors for pens, bookmarks, combs, and assorted other odds and ends. No condoms, no lube, no sex toys of any kind. There wasn't anything in the bedroom that pointed toward Chris being in any kind of a relationship period. No love letters or notes, no pictures of Chris with anyone except Sarah. The bathroom did turn up a box of condoms, but of the dozen that had originally been in the box, there were still ten left. Still no lube. Which meant the odds were that the person that Chris had needed condoms for had been a woman and not another man, or Chris had run out of lube and never got around to buying more.

Martin gave the guest bedroom a cursory run-through, not finding much of interest there, either. He returned to the den knowing that Chris Larabee had been a dedicated family man who kept mementos of this wife and child and that he didn't bring home a lot of sex partners. If he was getting a lot of sex, it wasn't happening in his bedroom.

"Find anything that I can use to blackmail Chris with?" Wilmington asked with a grin. He was seated in front of the computer, but even though the machine was running, Wilmington wasn't doing anything with it. He was still looking through the photo album.

"I hate to disappoint you, Buck, but your friend seems to be living a rather boring life."

Wilmington laughed. "I keep trying to get him to date more, but he's pretty set in his ways."

Martin nodded. "I need the computer now."

"No problemo." Wilmington moved over to the recliner.

"So, Chris isn't seeing anyone on a regular basis?" Martin asked as he started to look at the contents of Chris's personal computer. "Or even on an irregular basis?"

"No to both questions. He's dated a few women, but nothing serious. Mary Travis has her eye on him, but so far Chris hasn't really taken the bait. He likes her well enough, but her main attraction is her little boy, Billy. Chris is crazy about that kid. Mary's the former daughter-in-law of Orrin Travis, who's one of our bosses. I'm not sure if that's why he avoids dating Mary or if he simply doesn't care for her that way."

"Nothing like having accusations of nepotism going around to make things uncomfortable at work," Martin said. He knew that all too well, and while he hoped that he wouldn't experience anything like that again, he wasn't so naïve as to think that it wouldn't happen. It had been so easy last year for Danny to accuse him of using his father's position to protect himself, and Martin couldn't help but wonder if Danny would still be as quick now with that kind of an accusation.

"Yeah, Chris wouldn't like dealing with that one bit. But, I know Chris well enough to say that if he did love Mary, then something like that wouldn't stand in his way."

Martin nodded, but he wasn't paying as much attention to Wilmington's words as he should. He was concentrating on looking through the listing of saved documents, looking for anything that might give them a lead as to Chris's whereabouts. There was still the possibility that Chris had just walked away from everything. But so far, none of the document names seemed to hold any clues as to Chris doing something like that.

Martin became slowly aware that someone was standing behind him, reading over his shoulder. Wilmington had obviously finished looking through the photo album. Martin shook his head, concluding that this was all just a waste of time.

"I still need to check his e-mails, but I don't think that we're going to find any clues here," Martin admitted. He did smile slightly as he saw a folder marked 'poetry'. "Chris writes poems?"

"Nah, that's Junior's stuff. Sometimes Chris will drag his scrawny ass in here and get him to dictate a poem or two, since it's like pullin' teeth to get Vin to write them down. So, you haven't asked me about the person that Chris was with all week. Not interested in what Chris had to say, or do you already know all about it?"

Martin turned slightly around in the chair and looked up at Wilmington. The man looked genuinely interested, but other than that, Martin couldn't pick up anything from his manner. Did he know that Chris had been with another man or was he fishing for information? "We already know who he was with, so there's no need to ask you for details. Although if you want to tell me more, I can compare it with what we know. For all we know, Chris might have been seeing two people during the week."

Wilmington snorted. "Man would need Viagra for that. Chris ain't young enough to be able to handle two women in one night."

"Not all that old, either," Martin replied as he remembered just how often Chris did manage to get it up through the evening and into the night. Wilmington's comment though, did let Martin know that the man had no clue as to who Chris had been with, and that was probably a good thing.

Wilmington looked at Martin, his gaze intense. "He wasn't with a woman, was he?" he softly asked. "You had an odd look on your face when I said that about the two women."

"Is it usual for him to have sex with men?" Martin asked, not answering Wilmington's question. If it was a usual thing, then Wilmington wouldn't be shocked to learn that Chris had spent his free time this past week with another man. If it wasn't a usual thing, then Martin wasn't going to let Wilmington think otherwise.

"I guess that depends on your definition of usual," Wilmington replied. "Chris is bisexual, but for most of his life I think he's been with women. I know from stories he's told me that he and Ella would get pretty wild and have threesomes with the third person being a guy, but once he met Sarah, that changed. But after Sarah and Adam died, well, Chris seemed to turn more to men, at least for a while. He'd take it out of town, but I knew what he was up to. It wouldn't surprise me to know that he'd take up with a man while in New York. Not after the month we've had."

Martin's eyebrows rose as he wondered just what Wilmington meant by that. "I don't understand. Had things been extra good or bad?"

"Not really good or bad," Wilmington said. "Just tense. And when Chris gets really tense, he needs to let it out in a physical way. And he can be a lot more physical with another man than he can get with a woman, if you know what I mean."

"Rough sex?"

"At the very least," Wilmington confirmed, and he was now blushing. "Damn, but I feel like I'm betraying him by telling you this. A person's private life should be just that."

"I know," Martin said, and by the way his cheeks felt, he knew he was blushing just as much as Wilmington. "But the more we know about him, the better chance we have of finding him alive. Let me ask you something. Would things ever get so tense as to make Chris want to just walk away from it all? Even for a week or so?"

Wilmington had begun shaking his head before Martin had finished asking the questions. "No way. Chris would never just walk off. He's too responsible for that. I'm not saying that he wouldn't want to take a break, just that he'd put in for time off and then go off on his own. He'd never leave us high and dry like that. Now, if you'd have asked me those questions five years ago, then my answer would have been different. Chris was pretty despondent after they died, and didn't give much of a damn about anything. But now he's got friends around him, and then there's Billy Travis." Wilmington shook his head again. "No. Chris didn't walk away. Besides, he was happy and relaxed this week, at least he sounded that way on the phone. Whoever that guy is that Chris was with, he really did a lot to help Chris unwind and have a good time. I just hope that he's not involved with Chris's disappearance. Chris would take something like that pretty hard. He's a pretty good judge of character, and it would irk him to no end to know that he'd misread somebody that way."

"He's not involved," Martin assured him. "Give me ten more minutes with the computer and then I need to look at the most recent mail. After that, we can head to your old precinct to look at those files."

"Sounds like a plan," Wilmington said. "I'll go sort the mail into days for you, make it go a bit faster. The kid that's been taking care of the horses has been getting the mail in, too. She's been leaving it in a lock box in the barn."

"Thanks." Martin went back to the computer, not even noticing as Wilmington left the room. But he wasn't looking at the screen, instead his mind was on Wilmington's words. He'd made Chris happy? Okay, so maybe looking like Vin Tanner wasn't as much of an issue as Martin originally thought. Then again, maybe fucking someone who looked like his friend was something that would make Chris happy. If you can't get the real thing, then get whatever comes close to it, right?

Sighing, Martin pushed those thoughts aside once more. All he was doing was going in circles, and those thoughts weren't doing anything to find Chris. Clicking on the network connection, Martin pulled up the e-mail client, hoping that he'd find something they could use.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date originally published: April 12, 2009

Danny arched his back as he raised his arms in the air, stretching. He'd been looking through files all morning, hoping to find some clue as to what might have happened to Larabee, but so far he was coming up empty. Vin Tanner was working at the desk beside him, but the rest of the men were busy with ATF business. Jackson had to go to the courthouse to testify in front of a grand jury, and the others were working on their regular case load.

From the corner of his eye, Danny saw that Tanner was also stretching, and he grinned over at him. "I think it's time for a coffee break," Danny said, and Tanner nodded, getting to his feet.

"C'mon. My treat." 

Danny followed the man to the break room on their floor, and he leaned up against one of the counters while Tanner poured coffee for both of them. When asked how he liked his, Danny replied that he'd just take it black. Right then he needed the extra jolt from the plain coffee. As he sipped at the hot brew, he couldn't help but notice that Tanner took his coffee the same way as Martin. It never crossed his mind that it might mean something that he knew exactly how Martin liked his coffee. It was simply a matter of looking out for his partner. Of course, it didn't hurt that his partner just happened to be pretty damn sexy and handsome.

"Well, I'm coming up empty-handed," Danny said. The few leads that he'd thought he'd found had turned out to be nothing. "I really can't say what's sorer right now. My ear from all of the phone calls, or my ass from sitting for so long."

"I hear ya," Tanner said as he leant up against the other counter, sipping at his own coffee. "At least we were lucky when Buck recognized that woman."

"Ella Gaines." Danny had been surprised when Jack had called about five minutes after sending that photo to let him know that Buck Wilmington had identified her. "Here's hoping that Jack and the rest of our team can track her down in New York. Right now, she's the last person who saw Mr. Larabee."

"You don't suppose that she's the person he spent the week with, do you?" Tanner asked, a hint of something in his voice that Danny couldn't quite nail down. His first thought was jealousy, but that wouldn't be it. Then again, it wouldn't be the first time a supervisor had gotten involved with a member of his team. And from watching Sam and Jack dance around each other, Danny knew just how uneasy things could be once that relationship was over. So maybe this was a case of the wants? God knew that Tanner wouldn't be the first person to crush on a co-worker, male or female.

"No, she's not. We've already got a lead on that person. So, he told you guys that he was with someone this past week?" Danny wondered if Larabee might have mentioned the guy's name.

Tanner shrugged. "Not in so many words. He did say that'd found someone to spend his time with, and that he was having himself a good time. He called in every day to check in with us, since we got a couple of things on the back burner. He sounded happy, and it weren't just from being at the conference. Even though he was honored to have been asked to give that speech, he hadn't really been lookin' forward to spending the week in New York. Not that he don't like New York any, it was just that with everything goin' on here, he wanted to stay put."

"Likes to know what's going on all the time, huh?" Danny asked, and Tanner nodded. "Jack's like that, too. I swear there are some days when I think he'd be ecstatic if we told him every time we had to go take a piss."

They both grinned.

"So, is she pretty?" Tanner asked, his grin quickly fading. "The woman he was with, I mean."

Danny shrugged, not sure how to answer that. "Well, I never saw a picture of the person. The room service waiter thought so."

"Person. You didn't say woman," Tanner said, looking at Danny with more than a bit of appraisal in his eyes. "Chris was with a man then?"

Danny walked over to the sink and poured out the rest of his coffee, then rinsed out the mug. "I really can't say."

A hand on his arm stopped Danny as he turned to walk back to Team 7's bullpen. He turned his head to look at Tanner and what he saw in those eyes, those eyes that were so damn like Martin's it was eerie, made him pause. There was a desperation in those eyes, a desperation that Danny had seen in his own eyes more than a few times. The times when he'd look in the mirror and confess his feelings about Martin, then actually say out loud that those feelings would never be returned. It was a grounding of sorts, something to keep him from taking Martin's flirting too seriously. Danny flirted, Martin kind of flirted back. They were friends, and he would hold onto that with all his might and never dare to risk losing that friendship just to taste Martin's lips.

"Please, Danny. I need to know," Tanner said, the raspiness of his voice more pronounced.

"You love him, don't you?" Danny softly asked.

Tanner's head dipped once in confirmation. "I do, but I never…he never…we're friends, Danny. Chris is my best friend, and I'd never risk that friendship. I always thought he was straight, but if he was with another man, then maybe…maybe that means that I might not be risking our friendship if I let him know how I feel."

I know the feeling, Danny thought. Well, he might still be in that demented limbo, wanting someone so much but not being able to let them know, but there was no reason that he couldn't deliver Tanner from his own Hell. 

Danny nodded, "Yeah. He spent his nights with another man. But, I don't know what he looked like. I had to leave for the airport and never had a chance to go over the video footage from the hotel lobby. I just know that the waiter thought he was sexy and hot, and very good looking." No need to burst Tanner's bubble by adding just what it was that Larabee and this guy had been doing all week. Tanner might be gay or bisexual, but that didn't necessarily mean that he was into the same kind of sexual activities that Larabee seemed to enjoy.

There was relief and hope in Tanner's eyes. "Thanks for telling me. It really means a lot. Now, let's get back out there and see if we can't find something that'll get Chris back home." Tanner grinned, and damn but if it wasn't Martin's grin on the man's face.

"You know, when this is all over, we have got to see if you and Martin are related," Danny said as they headed back to the bullpen. "There are so many similarities, aside from your looks, that just make it seem to be far more than a coincidence that you two look so much alike."

"We get Chris home safe and sound, and I'll turn Heaven and Earth over to find an answer to that," Tanner assured him. "Right now though, I'm too worried about Chris to be thinkin' on if I got any stray relatives out there."

"I don't blame you for feeling that way. You and Martin aren't going anywhere, but with each hour that Larabee's missing…"

Tanner came to a sudden stop, his face paling. "Means that he won't be found, right?"

Danny nodded. "The longer it takes, the worse his chances are of being found or being found alive. I know that it's a depressing thing to hear, but it's something you should be prepared for. In the meantime, though, you need to know that we're doing everything we can to find him. We're good at what we do, Vin."

Tanner nodded. "I know. We looked up your team after I talked to your boss yesterday. If anyone can find Chris, it'll be you guys."

"Damn right it will be. Now come and help me." Danny grinned. "We might be good, but we also take help whenever we can get it."

Tanner flashed him a quick grin, one that once more made Danny's gut tighten because it looked so damn much like Martin's, and then that grin quickly faded. "The rest of the guys don't know how I feel about Chris, and I'd like to keep it that way. At least until I can let Chris know first."

"No problem, my friend. They won't find out from me. I have no intention of letting it spill about who he was with this past week."

Tanner nodded. "I noticed that you've been pretty careful about avoiding the more personal things about Chris that you might already know."

"Hey, trained interrogator here," Danny said, smirking as he pointed his thumb at his chest. "I know how to get what I want without giving away the candy store." 

 

By the time Martin and Buck Wilmington returned to the Federal Building, it was going on six that evening. Martin had the beginnings of a headache from doing so much reading in one day, and while they'd found some promising leads, most had been ruled out. The Denver P.D. was checking on the status of a few felons that Chris had arrested before he and Wilmington were partnered, but Martin didn't think that they looked all that promising. They were mostly local men who had never done anything outside of the county and Martin didn't think that they'd suddenly up and leave for New York just to go after Chris. They just didn't seem to be the kind who would put that much effort into revenge, especially with Chris living on a relatively isolated ranch and easily accessible.

Lunch had been the bagel and something tasteless from the vending machines at the precinct house, and Martin was pretty sure that his headache was also due to lack of food. As he and Wilmington made their way into the bullpen, Martin found himself hoping that everyone would be ready to take a dinner break, because he really didn't want to eat alone. It wasn't because he really wanted the company, but more that he wanted the distraction of company and talking to keep his mind off of the worry he felt for Chris and his confusion over just what the past week had been about. Of course, having Vin Tanner present at dinner just might add to the confusion, but Martin was willing to take that risk.

After exchanging greetings with everyone, Wilmington went off to Tanner's desk to be brought up-to-date on what their team had been working on, leaving Martin to bring Danny up to speed on their own case.

"We pretty much struck out," Martin said as he settled into the chair beside the desk that Danny was using. "Came across a couple of felons who had threatened Chris either at their trials or from prison, and the police are checking on their whereabouts. But all of them were local guys, and I don't think that anything's going to come of it. What about you?"

Danny shook his head. He looked to be as tired as Martin felt, and Martin was pretty certain that Danny was nursing his own headache. "We went through all their cases, and found nothing. I was waiting on you to get back before calling Jack. Maybe they found that woman and got some new leads from her."

"Maybe. She's an old girlfriend, so maybe you're right and they hooked up." It was something that he hoped hadn't happened, the very thought of Chris going off with her, or anyone else for that matter, just made his stomach turn. He wasn't sure what bothered him the most; the thought of Chris with someone else when he was supposed to have been with Martin all week, or the fact that it bothered him. If Chris had gone off to get a quick fuck with Ella Gaines, and hadn't gone missing, then Martin would have shown up as usual on Friday night and never known. He did take some comfort in the fact that Buck Wilmington had been so certain that Chris wouldn't have blown off that last conference day to go get his jollies.

"I hope not," Danny said, and there was something in the tone of his voice that made Martin take notice. Danny was gazing over at Vin Tanner, his expression slightly wistful.

"Something I should know about?" Martin asked, his stomach doing one of those slow turns that were becoming all too familiar the past 24 hours. Was Danny attracted to Vin Tanner? The thought did all kinds of things to Martin's insides, and he didn't like any of them.

"Yeah, but I'll fill you in later." Danny turned his attention back to Martin, and being back in Danny's line of sight seemed to calm Martin's stomach considerably. Another thing that he didn't want to think about right then. "Anything of interest at Larabee's house?"

"The horses are nice," Martin replied with a grin. "And he's got a large screen, plasma TV. Other than that, not a thing. No threatening e-mails or letters, nothing incriminating left out in the open or hidden. What about here? Any threatening e-mails sent to Chris at work?"

"Nope, but then I'm not as good at finding things on a computer as you are," Danny grinned. "It's still logged on if you want to give it a try."

Martin got to his feet. "Might as well."

He headed on into Chris's office, feeling once more as if he was violating the unspoken pact that they'd made last Sunday about keeping things impersonal. Well, as impersonal as two people can get while they're busy having sex with one another. The set up around Chris's desk was similar to the one in his den, which wasn't all that surprising. Martin took his time looking around Chris's files, even going to the main hard drive for the entire ATF operation there in Denver, but there was nothing threatening or odd to be found. Sighing, Martin logged off and then turned off the computer. Sitting back for a moment, he looked out through the glass walls and saw that the men of Team 7 and Danny were talking, and they looked more relaxed than before. They were obviously done with their work for the day and now waiting to see what the FBI was going to do about getting them their leader back. As Martin looked on, Nathan Jackson walked in, a lovely woman at his side. Yep, they were definitely done for the day.

Martin got to his feet and walked out into the bullpen where he was promptly introduced to Jackson's wife, Rain. She was a doctor, and Jackson had gone to get her at the hospital after he'd finished up at the courthouse. The others had been discussing dinner plans, and had agreed on treating him and Danny to dinner at a local tavern which was managed by a friend of theirs. Danny had already agreed for the both of them, and now that Jackson and his wife were there, they could all go.

"There's just one thing before we go," Danny said as he pulled out his cell phone. "Keep your fingers crossed that they've found that woman."

"Hell, I'm about to head out to New York to help look," Wilmington said as Danny dialed. The others all nodded and Martin had no trouble at all picking up the feeling that these men meant to do just that - head to New York to find their friend and boss, and Martin didn't blame them one bit. It was Hell to have to sit back and watch someone else look for someone that you cared about.

"Hey, it's Danny. Any luck finding that Gaines woman?" Martin looked over at Danny as the man began his one-sided conversation. Danny listened, then nodded. "I see. Just as well because we're coming up empty here. Martin and Buck Wilmington found a few leads from when Mr. Larabee was with the Denver P.D., but Martin doesn't think that they're very promising."

Several sets of eyes went from Danny to Martin, and Martin did his best to ignore the scrutiny. When Wilmington had given the names to the officer in charge, Martin hadn't voiced his opinion that it was a lost cause, even though that's what he believed then and still believed. Martin returned Wilmington's gaze, seeing then that the older man had apparently agreed with him, but had remained silent, too.

"Okay. We're headed out to dinner with the team, so let us know as soon as you've got something. Bye." Danny ended the call and looked around the room, meeting the gaze of each man and then Martin. "There are a few listings for an E. Gaines in the greater New York area, and they're now checking to see if any of them have driver's licenses or other picture IDs so they can narrow down the search. Once they've got her identified, they'll be going to her place to interview her."

"Well, that's better than what we had before," Tanner said, and Martin nodded his agreement. "Let's get to the saloon. Maybe by the time we're done eatin', your boss will have found her."

"I'm leanin' more toward them havin' found Chris himself by then," Wilmington said as he led the way toward the elevators.

"Brother, we're all praying for that," Sanchez added, and the rest of the team nodded.

"How far is this place?" Martin asked. He didn't want to be too far away from their rental car, just in case something came up.

"Not far," Wilmington replied. "But not close, either. You guys can follow me there."

"No offense, Buck, but it makes more sense to take my truck," Sanchez said. He turned his head toward Martin. "I've got a Suburban, so we don't have to take as many vehicles if I drive. It'll easily hold all of us."

That offer resulted in an easy going argument about what trucks or cars to take, and it lasted until they reached the parking garage.

"I'm riding with Danny and Martin," Tanner announced, and he turned toward Martin. "I can show you the way and hitch a ride back here with the guys."

Danny unlocked the car doors. "Since you're giving the directions, you should ride up front with me."

"Right." Tanner waved at his teammates. "See you there."

The three got into the rental car, and were soon on their way. From the back seat, Martin had a good vantage point from which to watch Danny and Tanner. The two seemed to have hit it off rather well, and were joking with each other as Danny followed Tanner's instructions. Martin's stomach didn't like that one bit. *He* was the one who was supposed to be joking with Danny, not this Texas version of himself. And so help him, if Danny started to flirt with Tanner, Martin would shoot someone. He wasn't sure just who his target would be, but he would definitely shoot someone, including himself if need be.

Martin found himself resenting the fact that Tanner had invited himself along for the ride. He'd wanted the chance to talk with Danny, let him know what Wilmington had said about Chris's past and that Chris wasn't dating anyone at the moment. He wanted Danny to tell him that Chris was a real shit for picking him up just because he happened to look like Vin Tanner. He wanted Danny to sound angry over that, to threaten bodily harm to Chris Larabee for breaking Martin's heart that way.

Wait. Back up.

Breaking his heart?

Martin didn't love Chris Larabee. While it was true that he liked Chris well enough, and thought he was handsome and sexy, he didn't love him. Sure, he cared about Chris, but not in the same way that he cared about Danny. He felt friendship for Chris, nothing more than that.

Wait. Back up again.

Danny was his friend. While he harbored all kinds of wonderful fantasies about Danny, the main feeling that he had was that of friendship. He felt friendship for Chris, but didn't feel the same way about Chris as he felt about Danny. Which meant that he didn't feel friendship for Danny. Or didn't really feel friendship for Chris, one or the other.

Now see, this was why Martin was wishing that he'd hitched a ride in Sanchez's Suburban, because then he'd be engaged in conversation with the rest of them and wouldn't be having these confusing thoughts. Here, in the car with Danny and Tanner, Martin felt alone, forgotten. No real human contact, no distraction, no conversation.

"Martin? You there?"

Martin's head jerked up as he heard Danny's voice. "Sorry. What were you saying?" Okay, so there was conversation, but it hadn't come soon enough, had it?

Martin watched as Danny shot a glance over at Tanner, then looked up into the rear view mirror. "I told Vin about Larabee and what he's been doing this past week."

Martin's cheeks felt flaming hot as his stomach began doing somersaults. How could Danny do that to him? To Chris? What if Tanner didn't know that Chris had the secret hots for him? Oh, God, this was worse than having to confess everything to Jack, worse than admitting it to Danny on the plane, worse than walking into that bullpen and seeing Vin Tanner.

"Pull over," Martin said as he felt the bile rising in his throat. "Hurry."

Danny quickly pulled over to the curb, coming to a stop. Martin slid across the seat and flung the door open just as he began to retch, emptying his stomach of everything he'd eaten since the last time he'd thrown up. God, this was getting old fast. Martin was so intent on making sure that everything landed in the gutter and not on the sidewalk or car that he didn't realize someone had moved around in the car until he felt a hand at the small of his back.

"You okay, Fitzie?" Danny asked, his voice sounding far too close for Martin's comfort right then. The guy had to be sitting in the back seat with him, Martin thought, and then he was aware that Danny was even closer than that, and was right up against him. He could feel the heat from Danny's body against his hip and backside, and his cock suddenly didn't care if Martin was throwing up or not, it liked that Danny was touching him that intimately. A quick glance toward the front of the car revealed that Tanner was twisted around in the passenger seat, watching him as well.

With one hand braced on the car door and the other against the back of the seat, Martin nodded. "Sorry."

"Hey, you've got nothing to apologize about. You can't help it if your stomach's all screwed up." Danny was now rubbing soothing circles over Martin's back and that felt nice, too nice. "I'm beginning to think that you've got one of those 24-hour viruses, and that it wasn't just lack of sleep that made you ill this morning."

What he had was too many people knowing too damn much about his sex life, but Martin wasn't going to say that to Danny. It wasn't Danny's fault that Martin was having a hard time dealing with all of this. After all, Danny hadn't asked Martin to confide in him, that had been Martin's choice. It was a choice that Martin didn't regret making, but he really wished that Danny hadn't chosen to confide in Vin Tanner in turn. Maybe he thought that it would accomplish something, but whatever that something might be, it wasn't anything that Martin could see.

"I'll be okay." Martin leaned his shoulder against the back seat and used the back of his mouth to wipe his mouth. "Are we almost there? I really need to wash up."

"Yeah, it's just a few more blocks," Tanner replied. "And Inez can cook up something bland for you if you'd like."

"I'll be fine with whatever's on the menu, thanks all the same." The last thing Martin wanted was Vin Tanner taking pity on him and asking this Inez person to make something special for him. No, he definitely didn't want to owe Vin Tanner anything.

Martin turned to face the front of the car and closed the door. Danny was still sitting there as if he was attached to Martin's hip, looking worried. "I'm okay, Danny, really."

Danny looked at him for a few moments, then nodded as Martin leaned back fully in his seat. Martin felt a bulge between his back and the vinyl, and when that bulge wiggled, he realized that he'd trapped Danny's hand there. Wishing that Danny's hand was trapped against some other part of his body, Martin resigned himself to the feeling that he was lost and should just give up trying to figure out what the Hell his emotions were doing. He moved forward a bit, freeing Danny's hand. Danny flashed him a smile and a wink, then got out of the backseat and back into the driver's seat.

Martin secured the seatbelt, sighing slightly over just how screwed up his life had become in such a short time.

"You sure you're okay? It'll only take a few minutes for us to drop Vin off at the saloon and get back to the hotel. You can get a nap or something."

Martin looked up to see that Danny was looking at him from the front seat, worry evident in his eyes. He knew that all he needed to do was shake his head and Danny would do just as he'd just offered, and then Martin wouldn't have to deal with sitting there at dinner with Vin Tanner, with the other man knowing that he'd been Chris's sex partner the past week. God, it was so tempting to shake his head, to be alone with Danny, but instead Martin forced himself to smile. "I'm okay, Danny. I think that my stomach just couldn't handle the food from the precinct vending machines. I still don't know what it was that I ate."

Tanner laughed, his head partially turned toward the back seat, but he was mostly looking at Danny and Martin wasn't sure he liked that one bit. "The food there will do it to you every time."

"If you're sure…"

"Danny, just drive," Martin snapped, and he immediately felt guilty over that as the worry in Danny's eyes was instantly replaced by hurt. "Please. Let's just go."

Danny nodded and turned around, as did Tanner. Martin closed his eyes and leaned his head against the window, listening to the sound of the car as it pulled back into traffic.

Martin hoped that Danny would turn on the radio, but instead the man seemed intent on picking up the conversation that he'd begun before Martin had lost his lunch. 

"Anyway, now you know that Vin knows about Chris, so you don't have to worry about keeping it a secret from him."

Martin opened his eyes in time to see Danny and Tanner share a glance that lasted far too long for his liking. "Right."

"And, um, he's cool with it. So no worries there."

Again, another glance between the two, and Martin felt himself wanting to toss Tanner out of the car. Maybe toss Danny out of the car, too. The car had been rented in his name, so there'd be no problem with him turning it in minus his partner when the time came. Or maybe he'd just dump their bodies somewhere, get on the road and drive back to New York? Chris would have been found by then, and be back home and Martin would never, ever have to see the man again. With Chris in Denver, and Danny and Tanner gone, the only person left for Martin to have to face every day would be Jack, and one phone call to dear old Daddy would take care of that in a heartbeat. Martin could find himself in another city, in another office and never have to feel that he was being judged by those whose opinions mattered so much to him. And, once in another city, he'd be more careful. The next time he let himself get picked up by an older, sexy man, he'd question him thoroughly before rushing off with him. No friends back home who just happened to look like Martin, and definitely no plans to go missing.

As Danny and Tanner talked quietly in the front seat, Martin closed his eyes once more. He wished that there was some way to turn off his mind and emotions, some way that didn't involve being tied down or spanked or whipped or any of the numerous things that he so enjoyed doing because they never failed to send him to a place where he just didn't have to deal with things. A place where he could turn over all control and not think, not make decisions about shooting or not shooting, or telling someone that their loved one was cheating on them, or was found dead. A place where the pain faded away to nothingness and Martin just floated, finally set apart from anything and everything that could truly harm him.

The car came to another stop and Martin opened his eyes. They were parked alongside the curb in front of a building whose sign out front proclaimed it to be "J. Watson's", along with other signs declaring that the place sold cold beer and good food. The place the others called the 'saloon' for some reason that Martin couldn't quite figure out.

Martin got out of the car and headed for the front entrance, not bothering to wait for Danny. All he wanted was to get to the men's room to rinse out his mouth and consider the pros and cons of hiding out in there for the rest of the evening.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date originally published: April 12, 2009

Danny sighed as he got out of the car and watched Martin rushing through the entry of the saloon. Walking around the car to the sidewalk, he pocketed the keys, wondering if Martin was really as okay as he claimed to be. The man really couldn't lie worth a damn, and if it had just been the two of them in the car, Danny would have pressed the issue. Hell, if it had just been the two of them, he'd have gone straight to the hotel, even if it resulted in Martin throwing a hissy fit. But it hadn't been just the two of them, so he'd taken Martin at his word, even as his own eyes told him that Martin was anything but fine. 

"I've got the feeling that your partner isn't getting us a table," Tanner said as they walked toward the entrance.

"I just hope he's not in there puking up more of his guts. He's about to run out of them," Danny joked. As they stepped into the brightly lit interior, Danny vowed to himself to go after Martin if the other man hadn't reappeared by the time the others arrived. And if he had been puking again, then Danny would take him back to the hotel and tuck him in bed himself if he had to. He didn't need a sick Martin on his hands for the flight back home.

A beautiful, Hispanic woman stood behind the bar, and she looked worried as she called over to them. "Vin! Tell me that they've found Chris."

"Wish I could, Inez, but the Feds are getting closer to finding him, at least that's what they tell us. And speaking of Feds, this here's Danny Taylor, from New York. His partner came in just before we did."

"Si. The one who looks as handsome as you." Inez smiled at Danny. "Welcome, Danny. Do you want something to drink now or would you like to wait for the rest of the guys?"

"Thanks, but I can wait," Danny replied with a smile.

"I see that our table is empty and waitin' on us," Tanner said, and Danny followed the other man to a table in the far corner. From there, if someone took the right seats, they could see everything going on in the room, including who came and went. Not really caring about the rest of the room, Danny took the seat that would give him the view of the small hallway that led to the restrooms.

Tanner took the seat across from him, against the wall and smiled his thanks as a pitcher of beer and a mug were set down moments later. The smell of the beer hit Danny hard, and he leaned back in his seat in an effort to avoid it. To be fair, it didn't bother him as much as it could have. Beer had never been his drink of choice, but there were times when he found that the smell of any alcohol would set off the ache of want and need, and this seemed to be one of those times. Since he couldn't leave to get away from the temptation, then Danny had to do the only other thing that would help, and that was to order something else to keep his hands and mouth busy.

Inez was still standing there, talking with Tanner, and Danny smiled up at her. "I think I will have that drink now. Whatever cola you have would be fine."

"I think I'll have one, too," Tanner said as he moved the pitcher of beer a bit farther down so that it was mostly in the middle of the table. "If I start drinking tonight, I just might not stop."

"Two Cokes coming up," Inez said and she headed back to the bar.

"How long have you guys been coming here?" Danny asked. It was obvious from their earlier comments that they were regulars, and having the bartender bring a pitcher of beer without being asked was a good sign that she knew her customers and their wants.

"Buck and Chris started comin' here back when they were on the force," Tanner said. "Then as Chris gathered the team together, everyone just found it easier to join them here. I'd say we come here about three times a week, sometimes for lunch, sometimes for dinner. And we always come here after we've wrapped up a case."

Inez returned with their sodas, and Danny smiled as he thanked her. "So Vin tells me that you've been putting up with his team for quite a long time now."

Inez laughed. "Si, but they are not so bad. They help to keep the rest of the customers in line. Except for when they're the ones making the most noise."

Tanner grinned up at her. "You know you love us, Inez."

"Me, especially," Wilmington said as he came up behind her. "How 'bout you and me going out for a date next week, Inez? We can go to the movies, then a late dinner, and then you can show me your place…"

Inez laughed as she shook her head. "As I keep telling you, Buck, that will never happen."

"It's because you know that you'd never get enough of me, isn't it?" Buck said, his eyes twinkling. "It's okay to admit it, you know. Lots of women have that problem."

"The problem of needing urgent medical attention for their rashes?" Sanchez asked as he took a seat, a broad grin on his face.

"I'll have you know that the women I date do not have medical conditions," Wilmington said, not even noticing that Inez had gone back to the bar.

"That's quite true, Mr. Sanchez," Standish said as he took the seat next to Tanner. "They are all in quite excellent physical condition before they go out with you. It is their conditions afterwards that gives one cause to be concerned. Why, I heard that the lovely flight attendant from Austria had to get shots before she was allowed back in her own country. And that was just from one date. It boggles the mind to think of what would happen to some poor, unsuspecting woman who mistakenly agrees to two or more dates with Mr. Wilmington."

"Fuck you, Ezra."

"I believe that I'll take a pass on that, Mr. Wilmington," Standish replied with a smirk. "My derriere cannot handle the number of shots that would be required afterward."

As everyone laughed heartily at the two men, Inez returned with a tray of beer mugs. As the others settled into their chairs, Wilmington left an empty seat between himself and Danny, and Danny smiled his thanks to the man for that.

"Did you lose Martin?" Wilmington asked him.

"He was sick on the way here, and he wanted to wash up," Danny replied.

Wilmington nodded as he pushed his empty mug toward Dunne, who was busy pouring beers for those who wanted one. "We had a Hell of a day, and I'm pretty sure he was getting a whopper of a headache before we finished up at the precinct house. I had meant to get him some Tylenol once we were back, but I plumb forgot it."

"Who needs Tylenol?" Rain asked from the other end of the table. She had her purse up on the table and was looking in it.

"Martin. All of that reading gave him a headache," Wilmington told her.

"Ah. Here is it." She pulled out a small bottle of the pain killer, shook out two tablets and passed them down to Wilmington. "Those should do the trick."

Rain hanged her purse from the back of her chair and accepted the mug of beer that Jackson passed her. "Thanks, hon."

He grinned at her. "No problem. Are we ready to order? I’m starving."

Danny accepted the Tylenol from Wilmington and got to his feet. "Let me go check on Martin. I'll be right back."

As Danny headed for the men's room, the others had already started to discuss what they were going to order for appetizers, so he knew that he'd have plenty of time in which to question Martin more closely about how he was feeling.

As Danny pushed open the door, he expected to find Martin either at the sink still washing up or in one of the stalls, once more puking his guts up. What he hadn't expected to see was Martin sitting on the floor, his back against the wall. Martin's knees were pulled up and he was resting his head on them, with his arms wrapped around his legs. 

"I'm okay, Danny," Martin said, and Danny had to smile at that because the man had never raised his head to see who'd walked in.

"So you say. But I think that you'll feel even better once you take these Tylenol and get some decent food in you." Danny walked toward Martin, stopping just a few feet away. He held out the pills, waiting for Martin to finally look up.

When Martin did look up, Danny had to fight back the urge to just grab the man up in his arms and take him back to the hotel right then. The pain that Martin was feeling from his headache was all too evident in his eyes, and he looked worn out. "We can always skip dinner and just go back to the hotel, let you get some sleep."

Martin slowly shook his head. "I'm okay."

Danny's eyebrows rose as he looked at Martin, feeling incredulous that the man would keep trying to use that phrase when it was so obvious that he was anything but okay.

Martin sighed. "All right, I'm not okay, but I will be." He reached up, the palm of his hand facing upward. "Thank you."

Danny dropped the pills into Martin's hand. "Don't thank me, thank Rain. I think she's got a pharmacy in her purse or something."

Martin's fingers closed over the pills, but he didn't move to get up. Instead he looked at the closed door. "Are they still laughing it up out there?"

Danny almost cringed from the bitterness in Martin's voice, and he wondered where that feeling was coming from. They'd been around a lot of families who had to fall back on normalcy in order to deal with the fact that someone they loved was missing and maybe dead. These men were no different. "Martin, you know how gallows humor works. It doesn't mean that they don't care about Larabee."

"The man might be dead, and they're laughing, Danny!" Martin's eyes were now angry, which while being a much better look on the man than pained, wasn't something Danny felt like dealing with right then. "The clock is still ticking and he's not been found."

"Jack has a strong lead with that Gaines woman," Danny said.

"Oh, whoopee! Jack just might have found the address for Chris's ex-girlfriend. Hell, it wasn't that many hours ago when you were sure that Chris was fucking her all day and night, and now you've got her kidnapping him…or worse!" Oh, yeah, Martin was pissed, Danny thought. And getting louder about it, too.

"You need to keep your voice down," Danny urged. "If you can hear them laughing in here, then they can hear you out there."

"What difference would it make?" Martin scrambled to his feet, but remained leaned up against the wall. "Buck Wilmington already knows that Chris likes to play rough when it comes to sex. Men, women, it hasn't made much difference to Chris in the past, and Ella Gaines was just as wild. And now you've gone and told Vin Tanner everything that happened last week, so what difference does it really make if everyone else knows?"

Something inside of him snapped, and the next thing Danny knew, he'd moved across the few feet separating them and had his hand pressed up against Martin's mouth and Martin pressed up against the wall. "I'm going to put down your lack of caution to the fact that you're tired and have a headache. Vin Tanner asked me straight out about whether or not Larabee was with a woman. Turns out that he's pretty much in love with the guy, and now, if we find Chris Larabee, he just might have a chance with him. I don't know how or why you ended up talking about this with Buck Wilmington, and I really don't care. I just need you to be quiet about it, got it?"

Martin's reply was an icy glare that made Danny think that keeping his hand over Martin's mouth was the best course of action for the moment.

"Fine. Glare at me all you want, it's not going to change anything, Martin. Now, you've got two choices. You can quiet down and calm down, take that Tylenol and go out there and have a decent meal, or you can take that Tylenol and go back to the hotel to take a nap. Your choice." Danny removed his hand, but he didn't step back from Martin as he waited for his answer.

"You're putting me in a time out?" Martin rolled his eyes, but the anger didn't seem to ease off any. "The way I see it, there's a third choice. I can take the Tylenol and stay right here. Why you think I should have to sit down to dinner with Tanner after all you've told him is beyond me. You might not think much of me right now, Danny, but fuck it, I deserve better than that!"

Danny's brow furrowed with confusion, and then he remembered Martin's comments back on the plane. The man was still struggling with his homophobia or some such shit. "You know, if you've got a problem with Tanner, then that's just what it is, *your* problem. I have better things to do than to stand here trying to figure you out." Danny abruptly turned and headed for the door. "You've got five minutes to decide about staying or going, Martin. After that, I'm ordering dinner and then your only choices will be about hiding in the men's room and sulking like a child, or coming out there and eating dinner like a grown man."

Danny knew that if he looked back at Martin, he'd risk tossing it all to the wind and rushing back to the man to gather him in his arms. It was obvious that Martin was struggling, and even if showing the guy how he felt might push Martin even further into whatever homophobe land he was living in, Danny just couldn't handle the thought of Martin suffering from anything. And so he walked on out of the room, eyes on the table where the majority of Team 7 were still having a good-natured argument about what to order first. Attempts at normalcy, even of the gallows humor variety, were far better than letting his emotions getting the best of him where Martin Fitzgerald was concerned.

Danny sat down, saying nothing as he listened to the others reach a decision about the appetizers.

"He okay?" Wilmington asked. "I thought we'd get some potato skins on this end of the table. That'll be easier on his stomach than the spicier food."

Danny nodded, touched that Wilmington was thinking of Martin's welfare. Then again, the two of them had spent the whole day together, and had, according to Martin, a talk about Chris Larabee's sexual exploits. Suddenly, the idea of the two them together just didn't sit well with Danny. If anyone was going to be talking sex with Martin, it should be him, and not some ATF agent who apparently felt he was God's gift to the world at large. 

Forcing himself to smile, Danny nodded. "Thanks. He's not okay, but hopefully once he takes the Tylenol, he'll be feeling better." Danny figured that if they'd overheard Martin, then someone would have said something to him about it. So, either they didn't overhear him, or they were too polite to bring it up.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date originally published: April 12, 2009

Martin glared at the closed door, as if that simple act would make Danny turn around and come back into the room. How dare he treat him as if he was a five year old? Martin suddenly had the impulse to stomp his foot against the floor, and as soon as it hit, he found himself chuckling as he realized that Danny was right about one thing. He *was* sulking in the men's room, acting like a child. Okay, so Tanner knew what he and Chris had been up to, and Tanner was in love with Chris. Looking at it now, with that knowledge, Martin had to admit that between the two of them, Tanner had it the worst. True, Tanner had a general idea of what he and Chris had been up to, but not everything. That waiter hadn't seen everything that they'd done, just the things that he and Chris had let him see. The curiosity had to be about to kill Tanner; the desire to ask probing questions about to drive him crazy. And now, if Chris was found and Tanner told him that he loved him and Chris returned those feelings, Tanner would always wonder if Chris was thinking of him when they were kissing, or if he was remembering the time that he and Martin had spent together.

So, yeah, having to live with that definitely sucked worse than what Martin was dealing with at the moment. The irritation that Martin had been feeling toward Tanner suddenly faded, replaced by a subtle pity over what the guy would be facing should Chris be found. And if Chris wasn't found alive? Or never found at all? Tanner would spend the rest of his life wondering if Chris had turned to Martin because he'd didn't think he stood a chance with Tanner. The hesitancy on his part to tell Chris how he felt would haunt Tanner until the day he died. No, there was no way that Martin wished that on anyone.

And yet wasn't he doing the same thing to himself? How many times had he wanted to corner Danny and tell him that he liked him? That he liked him a lot, and wanted to kiss him, touch him and do all kinds of things with him? Far, far too many times. And Martin had always been afraid to say or do anything. What if it was Danny that was missing, and Martin facing the prospect of never seeing the man again? Martin swallowed hard against the knot that suddenly formed in his throat. Nodding, Martin promised himself that once this was all past him, he'd corner Danny and tell him how he felt, the consequences be damned. He'd rather try and fail and end up working somewhere else than to spend the rest of his life wondering just what might have happened had he spoken up.

Martin reached up and unknotted his tie, then removed it and shoved it in his suit pocket. The top buttons of his shirt were then quickly undone, and he slipped out of his jacket, feeling a bit more human now that he wasn't being choked by that stupid tie. He then headed out of the restroom and to the table, smiling slightly as he neared the large group.

There was an empty seat between Danny and Wilmington and Martin draped his suit jacket over the back, then sat down. He then remembered the Tylenol, and he knew that Danny would have a fit if he didn't take them. Since he didn't have anything to drink yet, Martin reached for Danny's soda, using it to wash down the pills. As he put the glass back down in front of Danny, Martin noticed that Danny was smiling at him.

"What?" He'd made sure that he looked all right before leaving the men's room, so Danny couldn't be finding some fault with his appearance. Heck, Danny had lost his tie, too, so he couldn't complain about that, either.

"Just glad that you decided to join us for dinner. Appetizers have been ordered, so you just have to decide on what you want to eat." Danny's smile remained steady, and for some reason that made Martin feel calmer than before.

"No problem. I'm pretty sure that I smelled steak being grilled," Martin replied.

"The steaks here are great," Wilmington said from Martin's other side, and Tanner, who was seated across from Danny, nodded. 

"Most of the Mexican dishes are delicious," Tanner said. "If you think your stomach can handle the spice. Inez can always make something a bit less spicy, but what's the fun in that?" He grinned and Martin found himself grinning back.

"I second that," Martin said. "And while the Mexican stuff sounds tempting, my stomach is now in the mood for a nice steak, baked potato and Texas Toast."

Danny shook his head. "I keep trying to tell you that bread doesn't count as a vegetable. At the rate you're going, it'll be the cardiac care unit for you before you hit forty."

"Maybe, but at least I'll be happy getting there," Martin easily replied. 

The beautiful woman who he'd spotted behind the bar when he'd rushed in approached them. Well, she approached him, ignoring the others as she asked what he wanted to drink. Since she appeared to be the only woman working in the place, Martin figured she had to be Inez.

"Do you have any Irish whiskey?" Martin asked. He wanted alcohol and was pretty sure that it would boost the Tylenol, working to get rid of his headache even faster. He also didn't care that Danny was frowning, even though Danny had never frowned at him before when they'd been out drinking.

"This is Colorado," Danny said before the woman could reply. "Not Chicago or New York. You're not going to find any Irish whiskey here. So you might as well order a soda."

"That's where you're wrong, senor," the woman said, her smile bright as she corrected Danny. "We have Jameson's and Bushmill's."

"Original, Black Bush or one of the malt's?" Martin asked, smiling back.

The woman laughed. "You know your Bushmill's, senor. I have original and the 16 year malt. Senor Chris requested that one."

Martin smiled warmly as he remembered Chris having that in the hotel room. "Chris definitely likes a good whiskey," he commented. "I'll have a double malt, with ice, please."

"With pleasure, senor." The woman then looked at his tablemates. "Would anyone like a refill or something else to drink? Another Coke for you, senor?"

Danny nodded and the woman took a few other orders for drinks, then headed back to the bar. Martin could feel Danny staring at him, so he looked the other way, not in the mood for another lecture right then. However, he then found himself being stared at by Wilmington, Standish and Tanner. Wilmington and Tanner simply were simply staring, as if they were trying to figure out something, whereas Standish had a frown on his face.

Martin chose him to stare down, not liking being singled out for any reason. After a few moments, Martin heard a deep chuckle coming from Josiah Sanchez.

"Damn, but he and brother Vin have the same glare, too."

"I keep tellin' you that they've got to be related," Dunne said from the other end of the table. "It's just too eerie for them to be so much alike and not be family."

Martin switched his gaze from Standish to Tanner and slowly grinned. "I guess that our secret's out of the bag now."

Tanner's grin was equally as slow and he nodded. "Looks that way."

"Think we should tell them?"

Tanner shrugged. "Don't rightly know. I mean, yeah, it would put an end to their curiosity, but…"

"But then we'd have to kill them. It being top secret and all."

Tanner shook his head. "Be a damn shame to have to do that."

"True. But being a local, you'd know the best places to dump their bodies."

"True."

"Oh, ha! That's so not funny!" Dunne said, frowning as he leaned forward to look down the table at them. "You could just say that you don't know and leave it at that. But no! You have to go and make a joke about it!"

"Who said we were joking?" Martin and Tanner said simultaneously. And that small fact chased away their grins while making everyone else laugh, with the exception of the younger man who was still complaining about their attitudes. And for the first time since he'd first seen Vin Tanner, Martin found himself giving serious consideration to the thought that they might actually be related. The prospect of having found a new cousin of sorts was nice, but it didn't quite cover the worry that Martin felt for Chris. Yet another thing to be handled once Chris was found and the case was over and closed.

Martin's smile returned as he found himself looking forward to finding out the answer to this particular puzzle. He was also pleased with himself for thinking about Chris being found, and not thinking the worst, as he'd been doing for most of the day.

"God help us," Danny muttered, and Wilmington voiced his agreement to that statement.

The woman returned with their drinks, and then began to take their dinner orders. She started with Danny, and Martin took a small sip of the whiskey as he waited his turn. The liquor went down nice and easy, reminding him of the last time he'd had it. Chris had poured a glass of it and would alternate between sipping it and dunking his fully erect cock into the glass and putting that cock in Martin's mouth, letting him suck off the whiskey. Chris was nothing if not inventive, Martin thought. It was then Martin's turn to order and he requested his steak and the trimmings, shaking his head when she asked if he wanted a salad to go along with that. Then, like Danny, she frowned when he said he didn't, muttering something in Spanish that Martin knew had to be about him not eating right. 

As the woman, who Wilmington addressed as Inez, confirming Martin's guess as to her identity, continued to take dinner orders, a man came out of the kitchen with a tray of appetizers, setting them out around the table without ever asking who was eating what. Since nobody corrected him, Martin figured that the man just knew the group and their eating habits. A plate of potato skins topped with sour cream were placed on the table between Martin and Standish. Wilmington was quick to explain that he thought that those would be easier on Martin's stomach than some of the other appetizers, such as the nachos that the Jackson's were sharing, or the jalapeno poppers that were placed between Dunne and Sanchez, and the hot wings that were set between Standish and Tanner.

"Spice has never bothered my stomach," Martin assured him. "But thanks for thinking of me. So, what's the deal? Is this all mine, or are we sharing?"

"Sharing," Tanner said as he reached for a wing and began to eat it. "They'll bring out some plates in a sec, but they're usually so tiny they don't really count as plates. I won't blame you if you use your fingers."

Standish rolled his eyes, "Manners, Mr. Tanner, are the hallmark of a civilized society."

"And highly overrated when a man is hungry," Martin said as he reached for one of the potato skins. "Anyone want the sour cream? I can't eat it." He'd already had that cheeseburger earlier in the day, and even though the cheese on it didn't contain all that much lactose, he did plan to splurge and have sour cream on his baked potato, lots of sour cream. It was times like this when Martin wished he'd remember to always carry one of those supplements that would let him eat dairy products without having to worry about the cramping, bloating and gas. 

"You're lactose intolerant, aren't you?" Tanner asked, although Martin felt it was being said as more of a statement than a question.

"Yeah, from birth, or so they tell me. I'm guessing that you are, too?"

Tanner nodded. "Yet another thing in common." Tanner licked the hot wing sauce from his fingers, then twisted in his seat to get something from the pocket of his coat. He pulled out a bottle, and Martin recognized it as being one of the supplements that he'd just been thinking about. He shook out two tablets and handed them across the table to Martin. "It's usually one pill, but this close to eating, you'll want two."

"Thanks." Martin smiled as he took the pills from the man. He popped them into his mouth and washed them down with another drink of Danny's Coke.

"I did mention you getting your own soda, didn't I?" Danny asked, trying to look indignant but failing. "And it's not as if you don't have your whiskey." 

"You did, and I do, but I only needed a little sip, and I don't like to wash down pills with whiskey." Martin replied as he took a bite out of the appetizer. "Thank you for sharing."

"Damn, but you two remind me of Chris and Junior," Wilmington commented as he reached for one of the potato skins.

"Believe me, putting up with Martin is a finely honed talent," Danny commented as he reached across the table for one of the hot wings.

The waiter returned with empty salad plates and began to pass them out amongst the table. Before he was done, people were heaping various appetizers on their plates, and then Inez came out with a plate full of assorted appetizers.

Martin and Tanner both reached for the same stuffed mushroom, and Martin grinned across the table at the other man, who simply grinned back. Neither man released his tenuous hold on the item.

"Oh, for cryin' out loud, boys! There's plenty of 'em," Wilmington stated as he reached out and grabbed one of the other ones, leaving at least five more on the plate, not counting the one that Martin and Tanner wouldn't release.

"Martin, play nice," Danny said as he bit into a chicken wing.

"I am playing nice. I haven't actually fought Vin over anything…yet." Martin flashed a grin at Danny, but he still didn't let go of the mushroom.

It was then Standish's turn to try to move things along. He sighed heavily. "Mr. Tanner, as one of the hosts for our dinner, it is your responsibility to be gracious to our guests. Let Mr. Fitzgerald have the mushroom."

"Ezra, you know I'm not a gracious kinda guy," Tanner replied, flashing a grin at Standish that was so like the one Martin had just given Danny that it made everyone except Martin and Tanner laugh.

The standoff over the appetizer might have continued if not for Martin's cell phone ringing at that moment. Since it was in his coat pocket, Martin had no choice but to let go of the mushroom, and Tanner immediately popped it into his mouth the second Martin released his hold on it.

Making a face at Tanner, Martin grabbed his phone before the call could get forwarded to his voice mail, not even bothering to look at the caller I.D. "Fitzgerald."

"We've found Chris Larabee," Jack said, and Martin couldn't hold back a wide grin at the news. "He's unharmed, but we're having him checked out by the EMTs, just in case."

"That's great news, Jack. Hold on." Martin moved the phone away from his ear and looked around the table, not missing the expectant looks on everyone's face. "They found Chris and he's okay."

There was a round of cheers at that news, and Martin had to strain to hear Jack over the din of questions that came afterward. He got to his feet and headed for the hallway that led back to the restrooms, knowing it would be quieter there. 

"Where was he?" Martin asked, hoping that Chris hadn't been kept in some dark and damp basement, or worse.

"Ella Gaines had him at her penthouse, quite against his will. Sam's taking her down to be formally charged right now. The woman is not a happy camper, to put it mildly. And I highly doubt if she's all there upstairs, either. There's a good chance that she's the one behind the murder of Larabee's wife and son."

Martin's eyes widened at that news. "She planned that?"

"Going by things she told Larabee, it looks that way. We're going to be going over her place thoroughly to look for any and all evidence on that. I need to go, the EMTs have just arrived to have a look at Larabee. I wanted to call you first, so you'd know and could stop worrying."

"Thanks, Jack. I really appreciate that. We're now at dinner, so I'll let his team know." Martin ended the call, and once he returned to his seat, he told the rest of them what Jack had said.

Buck Wilmington paled as he listened to the news about Ella Gaines being behind the deaths of Sarah and Adam. "How can that be?"

Martin shrugged. "Jack doesn't have many details right now. Apparently, she said some things to Chris that made him believe that she was behind it all. Jack's having the penthouse gone over thoroughly to look for evidence that can link her to their deaths. In the meantime, she's being taken down to be booked on kidnapping charges, at the least."

Wilmington shook his head. "This has gotta be killin' Chris. I never met Ella, I told you that earlier, but the way Chris talked about her, he never thought she'd be capable of doing something like that. It's like I told you earlier, Chris thinks he's a good judge of character, and to have it be her…" Wilmington shook his head again. "This is gonna kill him."

"We'll know more later, Buck," Martin assured him. "In the meantime, we know that Chris is alive and safe, and that's what matters the most now."

Wilmington nodded, then grinned. "You are so right, Martin. It's time to celebrate! Inez! Another pitcher of beer. Hell, give everyone in here a beer, my treat. Chris Larabee is coming home!"

The rest of the bar's patrons cheered, some because they were getting free beer, and some because they knew that Chris had been missing and were happy that he was going to be okay.

Martin leaned back in his seat, taking another sip of his drink. Chris was alive and safe, and at this point had no idea that Martin was one of the agents working his case. As much as Martin wanted to rush back to New York to see for himself that Chris was all right and then to ask him just what the Hell he was thinking last Sunday, he also wanted to let things end the way they were - with the two of them being supposed strangers. There was no reason for Chris to know that the guy he'd spent a week fucking had been spending time with his friends. Chris would return to Denver, find out that Tanner loved him and the two would go off and live happily ever after. Martin would return to New York, get up the nerve to tell Danny how he felt and then…well, he didn't know what the future held for them, if it held anything at all.

And, along with all of that, Martin would try to figure out just how it was that he and Tanner were related. Martin took another sip of his whiskey and looked across the table at Tanner, who was sharing a joke or something with Standish and Danny. All three were laughing at any rate. It then hit Martin that if he and Tanner were related, and Chris and Tanner became a couple, then Martin's anonymity would end. If Tanner didn't come right out and tell Chris about him, then at some point or another, Tanner and Martin would be at some family function together and Chris would be there. Talk about your awkward moments, Martin thought.

Everyone seemed content to eat and talk about the party they were going to have once Chris got back to Denver. Martin was content to just listen, finding that keeping track of the various conversations that were going on around him was a great diversion. There'd be time to obsess about Chris, Tanner and the future later. Martin finished his drink, and ordered another, steadily sipping on it as he contemplated just how lucky Chris was to have such good and loyal friends to come home to. There was one small thing that bugged him, and that was the fact that in-between talking to his teammates, Standish would send steady stares his way, a puzzled look on his face. It was slightly disconcerting, but Martin tried his best to ignore it.

Martin was suddenly nudged from his left, and he turned his head to see Wilmington looking at him. "I know that you and Danny were busy working your asses off here, but thank you for getting Chris back for us."

Martin smiled briefly. "I'll be sure to tell the rest of the team that. They did all the hard work."

"Don't let Martin fool you, Buck," Danny said as he leaned forward to look around Martin's body. "It was Martin who figured out about the store, and that's what led us to Ella Gaines." Shit, Danny would have to bring that up. Please, please don't anyone ask the name of the place, Martin thought. He was pretty certain that Wilmington wouldn't say anything, not after their earlier conversation, but someone else might ask, and Martin wasn't quite up to lying.

Danny then tilted his head to look at Martin. "Speaking of which, you never did tell me how you figured that out."

For a brief moment, Martin wondered if Danny had been sneaking sips of his whiskey, because he couldn't believe that a sober Danny would actually ask that question in front of everyone else. "I'll tell you about it later," Martin finally replied.

"Oh, please, Mr. Fitzgerald, tell us now," Standish said, an odd gleam in his eyes as he looked at Martin. "It's always interesting to see how you FBI agents think."

Tanner rolled his eyes. "As if you never knew. Ezra here used to be an FBI agent," he told them.

"And then I came to my senses and went to an agency that actually values good employees as opposed to kicking them to the curb due to baseless accusations." 

That look in Standish's eyes was now harsh and no longer puzzled, and Martin suddenly knew that Standish had figured out that he was Victor Fitzgerald's son, or at least a relative of some sort. Martin knew he had two choices here - he could ignore Standish's insinuations and pretend that he had no idea what he was talking about, or he could try to come to his father's defense, even though he had no idea just what it was he'd be defending his father over. Either option had one thing in common, that being that Martin had no idea what the man meant.

"There are bad apples in every bunch," Danny said, butting in. "We never claimed that the Bureau was perfect."

"Maybe you never did, Mr. Taylor, but there are those within the Bureau, those higher up the food chain, who live and breathe perfection. Or at least the semblance of it."

Oh, yeah, Standish was definitely talking about his father, Martin thought. And it didn't surprise him one bit that Standish had nailed Victor perfectly. An ironic choice of words, considering that Victor Fitzgerald did live and breathe perfection, and expected it not only from those who worked with him and under him, but also from his children. Martin's sister had it a bit easier, as their father's idea of perfection for a woman wasn't as hard to attain as his idea of perfection for a Fitzgerald male. Martin was always aware of how often he failed to achieve the perfection that his father seemed to want so damn fucking much. Chris's voice echoed in Martin's head, telling him what a perfect slut he was, and Martin smiled wryly as he wondered just what Victor Fitzgerald would say should he ever know about the few things that Martin *did* obtain that perfection in. At the worst, it might just give the man a heart attack. A perfect heart attack, no doubt. One that met all the criteria of perfection in its execution and delivery, and Victor would be the perfect patient, as well.

Martin had lost track of the fact that the conversation had continued on without him. It wasn't until he heard Tanner raising his voice to Standish that Martin let himself be brought back to the present. Surprisingly, Tanner seemed to be doing his best to convince Standish to back off on the topic. That saddened Martin, because he didn't think it fair that his father should be something that came between friends.

"It's okay, Vin. Most of the people who have to work under my father share Ezra's opinions of him. They just don't voice them." Martin took another drink of his whiskey, a much longer one this time, and he contemplated ordering another right then so that he wouldn't have to wait between drinks.

Tanner looked confused, and it was Standish who explained things. "His father is Victor Fitzgerald. The Deputy Director of the FBI, and the man who refused to even listen to me when I was hounded out of the Bureau. He believed the lies and innuendos and couldn't be bothered to listen to someone who, in his opinion, was obviously out to give the Bureau a bad name."

The bitterness in Standish's voice was raw, and Martin knew just how the man felt. How many times had something happened that reflected badly upon him, and his father had refused to listen to any explanation he might have? If a teacher or principal said that something had happened a certain way, then they were telling the truth and there couldn't be any other explanation. After all, they were the adults in charge, and knew better than a child or teenager who was only trying to escape being grounded for a month or longer.

Again, Martin found that he had zoned out, because he was suddenly aware of yet another change in the atmosphere at their end of the table. Standish was still talking to Tanner, but his tone wasn't as bitter. Instead, it seemed to Martin to be sad.

"I failed to notice the resemblance before," Standish was saying. "And it is so apparent when looking at Mr. Fitzgerald just who his father is. They're not the same height, but the family resemblance is there, and you share it as well, Mr. Tanner. I suppose that it was your hair and bearing that prevented me from seeing it before now. All of these years working with you, only to now find out that you carry Fitzgerald blood in your veins."

Martin could see that the remark hurt Tanner, and that angered him. It was one thing for Standish to insult him and his father, but quite another to insult Tanner and the rest of the Fitzgerald family. Martin sat up straight and looked directly at Standish. "You can say what you like about my father, and even about me, despite the fact that you don't know me at all. But not all of the family is like my father, and I won't sit back and let you get away with insulting them. My Aunt Bonnie is one of the finest people I've ever known, and you have no right insulting her in way, shape or form." Martin hoped that his voice had remained steady, because he was shaking inside. His Aunt Bonnie was busy fighting a battle against breast cancer, and that was something she never deserved. She also didn't deserve to have someone sully her name and family, just because a person didn't like Victor, rightfully so or not.

The two men glared at each other across the table, and it was Danny who broke the ensuing silence. "The way I see it, you're both right. Victor is a royal SOB, and Martin and the rest of his family are decent people. And I for one, am not going to sit here quietly while someone else maligns someone who I consider to be a good friend. I'd trust Martin with my back anytime."

Tanner put a hand on Standish's arm, restraining him from moving and speaking. "We *are* the hosts here, Ezra," he reminded. "And I understand that you're still wound up tighter than a gnat's ass over Chris, but it ain't fair to take it out on Martin and on me. You've been knowin' me five years now, and you know I ain't like that. Want to go outside and get a breath of fresh air?"

Standish's answer was to get to his feet and stalk to the front door. Tanner shot an apologetic look Martin's way, but Martin was in no mood to accept any apology on Standish's behalf. He might accept an apology from the man himself, but in this case he was going to borrow a page from the book of Victor Fitzgerald, and not let Ezra Standish get away with letting someone else make his apologies for him. Tanner followed Standish out the door and it was as if the entire table let out a collective sigh.

"Sorry about that," Wilmington said. "We've all been a little on edge since we heard about Chris goin' missing. I guess that it's gonna take a bit of time to relax from that."

"There's no need for you to apologize, Buck," Martin finished his drink. "You didn't insult anyone." He looked around to see if he could get Inez's attention, needing that third drink more than ever.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date originally published: April 13, 2009

Danny inwardly sighed as Martin deftly turned away Wilmington's apology. God help them now if they had to deal with a pissy acting Martin for the rest of the evening. Granted, Martin had a reason to be pissed, but he didn't need to take it out on the others, not when it was Standish that he was pissed with. Danny knew that Martin would only accept an apology from Standish, and wouldn't put up with anyone else trying to make amends on the man's behalf. There were times when Martin could be a lot like Victor Fitzgerald, and this was one of them. Danny couldn't help but wonder if Standish had pushed those same buttons when he'd tried to talk with Victor - if so, then that would explain why he never got heard.

Inez came back to the table, and at first Danny thought that it was because she was getting the empty beer pitcher, so she could refill it, but it turned out that Martin must have gotten her attention in some way because she went straight to his chair, giving him her full attention. He frowned as Martin ordered another whiskey. A drunk and pissy acting Martin was going to be Hell to handle later on, but Danny knew it was futile to try to get Martin to drink something else. Martin was cool and understanding about Danny being an alcoholic, and he never pressed the issue, but he also made it clear that he wouldn't forego having a drink just because Danny was present. And to be truthful, Danny never expected anyone to cater to his addiction. It was his problem, not theirs, and he didn't think it fair to ask someone else not to enjoy a drink or two just because he wasn't drinking. And if he thought that Martin would stop at three drinks, then Danny wouldn't be as disapproving tonight, but he had a feeling that Martin intended to get really, really drunk. 

This case had gotten Martin tied up in knots inside, and Danny couldn't figure out why. His first thought was that Martin was upset with himself over his prejudice toward Larabee's lifestyle, but that kind of upset would only go but so far. There was something else that had Martin tense. Maybe Martin really was coming down with something, and it was simply feeling ill that had Martin on edge. Danny would keep a closer eye on him, just in case the guy developed a fever or something.

Inez returned to the table, a full pitcher of beer in one hand, and Martin's whiskey in another. Behind her was the guy who'd brought out the appetizers, and he was carrying a tray that held dinner plates. He started at the other end of the table, and Danny decided that he'd be nice and go tell Tanner and Standish that their food would soon be out.

Once he'd stepped outside, Danny saw that the two men hadn't gone far. They were standing by Sanchez's Suburban, talking, but not heatedly, and Danny took that as a good sign. He got their attention and called out that dinner was being served. They both smiled and nodded at that, and Tanner said they'd be right in.

As Danny returned to the table, he found himself frowning as he heard Martin laughing at something that Wilmington had said. The two men were leaning toward one another, upper arms touching and their heads inclined toward one another. Okay, so maybe Martin had needed to lean in toward Wilmington in order to hear better, that made sense. But it didn't make sense for them to be sharing a drink, Danny thought as he watched Martin hand his whiskey to Wilmington and then the other man took a sip of the liquor. He grinned as he handed it back to Martin, who took his own sip. That just wasn't right. He was the only one who shared drinks with Martin. 

Seething, Danny sat back down, reaching for his soda so that he'd have something to keep his hands busy. The desire to pull Martin away from Buck Wilmington was strong, and Danny knew it was irrational. Martin was most likely just being nice, and since he was getting tipsy, a bit of flirting would slip out. It didn't mean anything. It certainly never meant anything when Martin flirted with him, and there was no way that Martin would purposely flirt with another man. Didn't mean Danny had to like watching it, though.

As the waiter returned with another tray of food, Tanner and Standish returned to the table. Standish looked constipated as he contemplated the table before him, but then he looked directly at Martin.

"I spoke out of turn, Mr. Fitzgerald, and apologize for doing so," Standish said. "It was not my intention to insult you or the rest of your family, although I do admit that it was my intention to insult your father."

It was a good apology, Danny thought, and by the look on Tanner's face, he obviously felt the same way. Danny looked at Martin and bit back a groan. The look on his partner's face was the one that meant he intended to leave Standish dangling in the breeze. Danny had no doubt that Martin would accept the apology, Martin wasn't the kind of person who would throw someone's apology back in their face. But Danny also had no doubt that Martin would enjoy making Standish squirm as he glared at him. After watching Martin flirting shamelessly with Wilmington, it was a bit more than Danny was willing to put up with.

"For Heaven's sake, Martin. Quit being an asshole and just accept the apology already!" The waiter had been putting Martin's dinner in front of him, and the man froze, as if he expected all Hell to break out around him. And, given the look in Martin's eyes as he turned his head to look at Danny, he just might have the right idea.

The waiter stepped to Danny's other side, getting out of the way as he set Danny's meal down in front of him. Martin remained silently staring, and Danny had to fight the urge to squirm while under that unrelenting gaze.

Martin finally looked away, returning his gaze to Standish. "Apology accepted," he said. Martin then drained his glass before getting to his feet. "Excuse me."

Danny watched as Martin headed back to the men's room, and he couldn't help but wonder if he'd gone there to sulk or if he was sick again. Well, he wasn't going after him this time. If Martin was sulking, then he could just go on and sulk. He had been acting like an ass, and Danny wasn't going to apologize for calling him on that.

As Danny started to cut apart the ribs he'd ordered, he could feel several sets of eyes staring at him. He looked up to see that Tanner, Standish, Wilmington and Sanchez were all looking at him, waiting to see what he'd do.

"You gonna go check on him?" Tanner finally asked.

Danny shook his head. "Nope. If he wants to go off and sulk like a child, then let him. I didn't get any sleep on the plane last night, and only a few hours once we landed. I'm tired, worn out and hungry, and I don't have the patience for a Fitzgerald tantrum right now." Martin was probably expecting him to come rushing in there to check on him, and he wasn't going to give the man that satisfaction. A thought ghosted through Danny's head, that what Martin needed was to be put over his lap and have his ass spanked but good, and as always, that thought brought much happiness to his cock. The only bad thing right then was that if Danny did dare to spank Martin, it would be for real, and not as foreplay. And that meant it was far too dangerous for Danny to go anywhere near Martin at the moment. Not that he could tell the others his true reason for not going to check on Martin, but the one he gave them was close enough to the truth.

From the corner of his eye, Danny saw Wilmington getting to his feet. "I'll go check on him."

Danny's eyes narrowed as he watched Wilmington walk toward the restroom, and he was tempted to call the man back and go himself. If Martin wasn't just sulking, but was sick again, and in need of comforting or aid, then it was Danny's place to provide it, and not Buck Wilmington's.

The sound of a soft laugh from across the table caught Danny's attention, and he looked over at Tanner, wondering what the man found so funny.

Tanner nodded at him, his smile bordering on the mysterious. "Remember what we were talking about earlier? During the coffee break?"

Danny frowned as he remembered their conversation. Tanner had asked about who Larabee had been with, and then once he found out it was another man, had admitted that he loved Chris Larabee. Well, Danny had called him on it, first, but Tanner had admitted it readily enough afterward. Danny nodded. "What about it?"

"I can say the same about you." The smirk on Tanner's face was one that was all too familiar to Danny. Tanner seemed to be implying that he was in love with Martin, at least that was the idea Danny was getting. Tanner was probably another guy who needed a spanking, especially if he spent a lot of time smirking that way.

"What? Are you crazy?" Danny looked down at his plate, giving his food his full attention so that he wouldn't have to keep seeing that knowing look in Tanner's eyes.

"I guess I'm crazy."

Danny's head snapped up as those words echoed in his head, reminding him of the time when he'd said something similar to Martin. Tanner was still smirking, and Standish was talking with Sanchez and thankfully not involved in this conversation as either a listener or a participant. "Sounds like it to me."

"Then why does it bother you that Buck has gone in there to check on Martin?" Tanner asked as he cut into the steak he'd ordered.

"Because that's what Martin was expecting someone to do. It's the way a tantrum works, Vin. Throw a fit, stalk off somewhere to sulk and then wait for someone to come to make sure that he's all right. If Buck had stayed put, then Martin would have been back out in less than two minutes. No attention, no fun. It's really very simple." Danny knew he was being hard on Martin, the guy wasn't really like that. But he didn't like being caught out on how he felt about Martin, and he sure as Hell wasn't going to admit that he was jealous that Wilmington had gone to check on Martin while he'd stayed in his seat.

Anyway, it wasn't as if they'd ever see these guys again…Danny's fork stopped midway between the plate and his mouth and looked directly at Tanner. The man who just happened to look like Martin, right down to having the same facial expressions and even being lactose intolerant. The man who just might be related to Martin, and if so, then Danny knew that they'd be seeing each other again. And now Tanner would have the idea that Martin was some sort of prima donna who went off and pouted when he didn't get his own way. And all because Danny was the one currently acting like a child by tearing Martin down in someone else's eyes.

Danny set his fork down. "That's not true. Martin's not really like that. But he does get pissy acting sometimes, and when that happens there's only two ways to handle it. I can either try to get him angry enough to get past it, or I ignore him. Jack, our boss, just simply stares at him, but that's never worked for me," Danny said with a small smile.

"Jealousy can make a man say things he don't mean," Tanner said, that smirk back. 

Oh, yeah, that spanking was definitely looking like a good idea, Danny thought. And then he had another thought. Tanner was gay, or bi at the least. With Tanner, the spanking *could* be foreplay, and with him looking like Martin…oh, man, was that a tempting thought. Of course, the fact that Tanner was in love with Larabee did manage to put a damper on the whole idea, but if not for that, then Danny could find it very easy to seduce the guy and pretend that he was Martin, if only for a few minutes. Wouldn't be fair to Tanner, but as long as it was just a fantasy, then Danny didn't see any harm in the thought.

Picking up his fork, Danny took the first bite of his dinner, but his eyes managed to orient on the door to the men's room as he waited for Martin and Wilmington to rejoin them. He'd give them a few more minutes alone, and then he was going in after Martin. Martin was, after all, his partner, and it was only right that he go and drag the guy back into the dining room. No sense in Wilmington's dinner go cold while trying to deal with the guy.

 

By the time Martin reached the men's room, tears were stinging his eyes. It made him remember why he usually stuck to two drinks, or else rushed through that third one and got onto the fourth and fifth in record time. Three drinks made him snappy, and then sappy. After three drinks, someone could say the name "Bambi" in his presence and he'd tear up as he thought about the movie.

Granted, at least half of his third drink was still in the glass, but the pain medication he'd taken for his headache had to be intensifying the effect of the alcohol. Take all that into consideration, and add Danny being taunting and cruel, and he was actually surprised that he hadn't burst into tears right there at the table. The only thing that saved him from embarrassing himself that way was most likely because not all the alcohol from the third drink was yet in his system.

Martin went to the sink and ran the cold water, splashing his face in an effort to ward off the tears and to hopefully sober up a little bit. As the cold water began to work, Martin reflected that Danny had lasted longer than he'd thought he would. Martin had really expected Danny to be angry last night, when he'd confessed to him that he'd been with Chris that past week, and then to get pissy acting and going into full-out lecture mode. When that hadn't happened, Martin had been too relieved to think about the fact that Danny might be up for a delayed reaction on all of that. Maybe if he hadn't have deluded himself about that, then he wouldn't have been so hurt when Danny had turned on him just now.

The door opened, and Martin tensed, not ready for more of Danny's sharp tongue or even for a mini-lecture. Turning off the water, Martin closed his eyes, letting the water droplets stream down his face and drip into the sink. "I know you're pissed at me about Chris, but it can wait for later, Danny. Go back and eat your dinner before it gets cold."

Danny moved, but it wasn't to leave, and the alcohol must have been clouding Martin's mind because he didn't register that it was another man's cologne he was smelling until he saw a hand, a hand paler than Danny's, handing a bunch of paper towels out toward him. Martin took the paper towels and stood straighter, looking at Buck Wilmington in the mirror.

Please don't let him ask what I just meant, Martin silently prayed, although he doubted if it would do much good. God had never answered his prayers before, even back when Martin had truly believed in him, so why should he start now?

Martin dried his face. "Thanks."

"No problem. I just wanted to make sure that you weren't in here puking your guts out again," Wilmington said. "So, why would Danny be pissed at you about Chris?"

Martin turned to toss the used paper towels into the trash can, hoping that if he didn't look at Wilmington, then the guy wouldn't see that Martin was stretching the truth. "He knows that I told you what Chris was up to this week, and we'd agreed not to mention it to any of you."

When Martin turned back around, he saw that Wilmington had leaned against the counter and crossed his arms across his chest as he looked back at Martin. There was a speculative look on his face. "You know, we might not do the kind of investigative stuff that you do, but I did quite a bit of it back in homicide. You know that Chris likes Bushmill's whiskey. More than that, you know exactly which variety of Bushmill's he prefers..."

"We do tend to dig deeply when looking into the life of a missing person," Martin interjected.

Wilmington tilted his head toward Martin, but didn't let that bit of information deter him from what he was saying. "You got sick the minute you saw Vin, now you're saying that Danny's pissed at you because of Chris, and earlier today, when I was telling you how happy Chris sounded when he was talking about being with someone all week, your eyes lit up like a Christmas Tree. You were pretty quick to assure me that the guy Chris was with didn't have anything to do with his disappearance, and you seemed uneasy when asking about Chris's sex life. I don't know how or why it happened, but I'm willin' to put good money on the idea that you're the someone that Chris hooked up with."

Martin shoved his hands in his pockets as he stared down at the tiled floor. He could assure Wilmington that he was way off base, or he could tell him that he was right. Judging by the tone of Wilmington's voice, the man wouldn't believe him if he said he was wrong, so Martin figured he might as well be truthful. There was just one thing to insure first.

Martin looked up and directly into Wilmington's eyes. "You can't ever let anyone know what you've figured out, Buck. Especially Vin."

Wilmington blew out a breath, "Shit. I totally forgot about Vin. You and him looking so much alike…"

"Yeah."

Wilmington nodded. "It'll be our secret. Although I guess that it's a bit harder to have a secret between three people, since you said that Danny knows about this."

"He does. He took it pretty well when I told him on the plane last night. I guess that it's just now catching up to him. He's not usually so…"

"Nasty?"

Martin grinned slightly as he nodded. "Yeah."

"Would you be upset if I called him a bastard on your behalf?" Wilmington said, and Martin thought he was joking. "I mean, considering everything, you've been having a Hell of a time since Chris disappeared."

"It hasn't been easy. It got worse when I saw Vin Tanner. Made me feel…used."

Wilmington shook his head as he stepped over toward Martin. He reached out and placed his hands on Martin's shoulders, making sure he had Martin's full attention. "Don't think that, Martin. Like I said before, I've known Chris a long time. And while you might look like Vin, I know that he wouldn't have spent a whole week with you if that was the only attraction."

Martin smiled weakly. "I keep telling myself that, but…"

"But nothing. Chris wouldn't have been with you if he'd been wanting Vin. If anything, he'd have run the other way the second he saw that you two looked alike."

"Thanks for saying that. You know, it really doesn't matter. Not in the long run. Tomorrow we fly back to New York, and Chris flies back home. I'll never see him again, so it's really a moot point, you know?" Martin shrugged, and Wilmington released the hold he had on his shoulders.

"And what about you and Vin? If it turns out that the two of you are related, can you really keep away?"

"I've thought about that," Martin assured him. "And I'm thinking that if it comes to that, then maybe we can meet somewhere between Denver and New York. I don't want to do anything to make Vin or Chris uncomfortable. And if Chris had meant for you to know about me, then he would have said my name to you at least once."

"He was on speaker phone," Wilmington said, a hopeful look on his face. "And while Chris knows that I wouldn't think twice about him hooking up with another guy, he wouldn't be so sure about the rest of the guys. I don't think you'd ever make him uncomfortable, Martin."

"Well, that just might be true, but I'm not willing to put it to a test." Martin headed for the door. "I think our food's getting cold; we should eat while we still can."

"Oh, there's no worry about food gettin' cold," Wilmington assured him, taking Martin's cue that the conversation about Chris was over. "Those piranhas will eat both of our dinners before letting 'em get cold."

Martin laughed as he opened the door, thinking that Danny would probably join the rest of them with that. Despite Danny's claims that Martin's stomach was a bottomless pit, the man put away more than his fair share of food.

They made their way back to the table and sat down. As Martin began to cut his steak, he could feel Danny looking at him, but he didn't turn his head to look at Danny. If Danny was still pissed off, then Martin didn't want to know. And if he was over that, then he'd still be over it once Martin had gotten some food in his belly.

Inez came over to the table, asking if anyone wanted refills on their drinks and making sure that their food was all right. "Another whiskey, senor?" she asked Martin.

As much as Martin wanted to get drunk enough to be numb, he didn't want to risk getting all teary-eyed again, so he shook his head. "I think I'll switch to water, no lemon, please."

Inez nodded. "Water it is then, senor." After getting a few other refill orders, Inez headed back to the bar. 

Martin could feel the approval emanating from Danny, and he held back his smile. Danny never made an issue of his alcoholism, and Martin appreciated that. While he didn't go out of his way to drink in front of Danny, he didn't deprive himself of one if he wanted it and Danny was present. But he knew that Danny didn't like it when he drank a lot, even though Danny never said a word about it. No, he never needed to. The disapproval and disappointment would roll off of him. If Martin was only slightly tipsy, it would usually be enough to keep him from ordering more to drink. If he was already drunk, then he didn't give a damn and would keep on drinking at that point just to spite Danny. But Martin had to admit that the times when he did stop drinking and that vibe quickly turned from disapproval to approval felt pretty damn good. 

The rest of dinner passed without any further incidents. All the built-up tension had been released, and everyone was pretty much at ease. The three whiskeys had Martin feeling mellow, and his worries about what, or rather, who, had been on Chris's mind during the week seemed needless. 

The group was deciding about whether or not to have dessert when Danny's cell phone rang. It was Jack with an update on the case. As Danny moved to a quieter place in which to hear better, Martin felt his unease about Chris's motives returning. Wilmington turned toward him, as if he'd sensed Martin's change of mood.

Leaning over so that he could whisper in Martin's ear, Wilmington did his best to reassure him. "Chris wanted you, Martin. Don't ever think otherwise."

Martin nodded, and Wilmington pulled back slightly. "The dark fudge cake with ice cream is almost sinful, it's so good. If you like chocolate, then you'll love that cake. Inez heats it up slightly, so it melts the ice cream just a bit, but it doesn't get so hot that you end up with melted ice cream getting the cake soggy before you're done eatin' it." Wilmington grinned. "Of course, with the way Junior eats it, that would never happen. I swear he inhales it, and probably never really tastes the cake at all."

Tanner grinned as he gave Wilmington a single-digit salute from across the table. "The peach cobbler is pretty good, too," Tanner said. "And the apple pie is always good."

"It all sounds tempting," Martin replied. "But I think I'll hold off on ordering until I know if we're staying overnight or heading back tonight."

"Your boss would make you fly home tonight?" Tanner asked. "That wouldn't make much sense, unless you checked out of the hotel this morning."

"We probably should have, but we didn't. You're probably right. If Jack knows that we're paying for another night at the hotel either way, then he'll let us stay and take the first flight out in the morning."

Tanner's cell phone began to ring, and he looked at the caller ID, frowning. "I don't recognize that number." He held the phone up so that Martin and Wilmington could see the number. "Seem familiar to either one of you?"

Wilmington frowned as he shook his head, but Martin nodded. "It's our office number."

"Shit. Maybe it's Chris then? Tanner here." Tanner quickly answered the phone, and a grin soon appeared on his face. "Damn, Larabee, but it's good to hear your voice."

Martin settled back in his seat and watched Tanner as he spoke with Chris. The man's face had lit up the second he'd heard Chris's voice, and Martin could so easily see that what Danny had revealed was true. Vin Tanner was in love with Chris, and Martin found himself hoping that Chris would return that love and not break the guy's heart.

The rest of the table had gone silent once they discovered who Tanner was talking with, and Martin felt happy that Chris had a group of friends that was so loyal toward him. Between Tanner, who loved him, and Wilmington who accepted him no matter what, Martin knew that Chris was a very lucky man. As he looked at the faces of the rest of the team, Martin could tell that they'd probably accept Chris no matter what, as well. This made Martin feel hopeful that if Chris and Tanner did become a couple, then that would go over well with the rest of their team. After a minute or so, Tanner passed the phone to Standish, and Martin had a feeling that that cell phone was going to make the rounds of the table before the call ended.

Martin was still watching and listening as Danny returned to his seat. Martin tilted his head slightly toward Danny as he felt Danny moving toward him. Like Wilmington before, Danny had decided to whisper. "That was Jack."

Martin nodded, and Danny continued. "He just wanted to give us a few more details about the case and to let us know that he's got us booked on a six a.m. flight home. That bitch broke Larabee's cell phone, so Jack's letting Larabee run up a long distance bill on the Bureau's tab."

Martin grinned at that, and he turned his head enough to see that Danny was also grinning. "He might regret doing that," Martin whispered back. "Chris seems intent on talking to each of his friends tonight."

"I don't think Jack'll mind all that much, not after what Larabee's been through. This might be time for us to make our exit, let them get reunited without us getting in the way."

"What about dessert?" Martin protested. He'd been having a good time with Chris's team, and didn't really want to leave. But since Danny was the sober one, and had the car keys, Martin couldn't really force the issue. If Danny wanted to leave, then they'd leave.

"I'll stop at a store and buy you cupcakes or something," Danny promised.

Martin nodded, and he got to his feet, grabbing his suit jacket just as Standish handed the phone off to Sanchez. 

"Are you two gentlemen leaving us already?" Standish asked, his eyes glowing with happiness. If not for the fact that they'd been glowing that way since Tanner had answered the phone, Martin would have felt insulted.

"We've got a six a.m. flight home," Danny said, speaking in a normal voice since the cell phone was a bit further down the table. "Thanks for dinner."

"Not a problem," Wilmington said. "Any time you two find yourselves back in Denver, give us a call. We'd love to get together again when things aren't as tense."

Standish and Tanner echoed that sentiment, and Tanner offered to walk out to the car with them. As they left, Inez called out her goodbyes, and they left her grinning over their praises of the food and service.

Once outside, a slight chill had settled, and Martin shivered slightly despite his jacket. Tanner was talking with Danny, once more thanking them for finding Chris, even though they hadn't actually done anything.

They reached the car, and Tanner stopped and looked at Martin. "Give me a call once you get home," Tanner said as he handed a business card to Martin. It was an ATF card, and included Tanner's cell phone number. "I'll see what family information I can dig up, and we can compare notes."

"Sounds like a plan." Martin pulled out his wallet and put the card inside it, then handed his own card to Tanner. Government efficiency at its finest, Martin thought as he saw that except for the agency names and addresses, and their names, the cards were identical. Same format, font and font size, and same color ink. Tanner slipped the card into the pocket of his shirt.

"I hope you guys have a good and safe flight tomorrow," Tanner said as Danny unlocked the car. He opened the passenger door for Martin. "Take care, both of you."

"You too," Martin said, and he got into the car before he did something silly, such as giving the man a big hug. That could wait until they found out if they were related, or if it was just a case of coincidence combined with that old adage about everyone having a twin somewhere out there.

"Good luck, Vin," Danny said and Martin saw them grin at each other. He also hoped that luck smiled on Vin Tanner and Chris, and that they ended up happy. Chris deserved to be happy.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date originally posted: April 13, 2009

Danny got into the car and as they pulled away, Martin looked back to see that Tanner was still standing there on the sidewalk, watching them leave. Martin returned his attention to the road in front of them. No more looking back at the past week, he told himself. If Buck Wilmington, who knew Chris better than he'd ever hope to, could say that Chris hadn't been substituting him for Vin Tanner, then who was he to argue with the man? 

As for the possibility that he and Tanner were related - well, Martin was prepared for anything. If it panned out, then he'd welcome his new relative with open arms, and do his best to make sure that all of their meetings were away from Denver, and also away from Chris. It would be hard enough on Tanner just knowing that Martin and Chris had been together. He didn't need to see them in the same place, even if everything was platonic between them. The case was over, and Chris was either boarding a plane home that evening or first thing in the morning and would never know that one of the agents working his case had been his temporary lover. For the sake of his own mental and emotional well-being, as well as for Tanner's, Martin vowed to do all he could to make sure that he and Chris never saw one another again.

 

As they walked into their hotel room, Danny wondered if Martin was ever going to talk to him again. The man had spent the entire ride from the saloon in silence, and had managed to get to their room without speaking as well. Danny pretty much figured that Martin was still pissed at him for what he'd said back at dinner, and now that more time had passed, Danny felt a bit guilty about saying it. He also felt guilty about what he'd been thinking once Martin had left the table, although he certainly wasn't going to say anything right now about Martin having a tantrum or sulking, or anything of that nature. 

Danny plopped down on his bed and reached for the TV remote, hoping that there'd be something decent on to watch. He glanced from the TV screen over to the closet, where Martin was hanging up his suit jacket.

Since Martin was still being quiet, Danny figured that it was up to him to break the silence. "It's not often that we get a little vacation out of a case. Granted, I didn't get to see more of Denver than what I could see while driving to the Federal Building and then to dinner and back here, but you got to go out to see a ranch and all…"

"It's not a real ranch," Martin replied as he began to unbutton his shirt. "Chris just has some horses and a lot of land."

"Still, you got to see more than I did. And it sounded as if you and Buck got along okay."

"It's not as if you were stuck with anyone awful," Martin said. "You and Vin seemed to get along quite well. At least, I hope you got along well since you felt it necessary to tell him as much as you did." Martin finished hanging up his shirt and he draped his tie over the hanger, then closed the closet door and walked over to his bed, sitting down on the side and facing Danny's bed. "Still, he seemed to take it well."

Danny shrugged. "He asked, guessed mostly, and I told him the truth. Besides, you talked with Buck about it, too." Danny scooted back on the bed, and moved his pillows so that he could lean back against the headboard. "It can't be easy to be in love with your boss…with your friend, and know he's been fucking someone else all week long."

"Is that how you view it? As just fucking?"

Something in the sound of Martin's voice made Danny look over at him, and he could have sworn that the guy's eyes were full of pain. "What other way is there to describe it, Martin? For crying out loud, Larabee was sharing. You don't do that with someone you really care about. At least, I know that I'd never do that."

"Hell, Danny. You wouldn't do half the things that Chris did," Martin quickly retorted as he got to his feet. "I'm going to shower. Do you need to get in there first?"

Danny frowned and shook his head. From what he'd heard about what Larabee had been doing, he'd most certainly do half of the same things, and then some! And God, but it was still so easy to imagine the things the waiter had mentioned and picture Martin doing them with him.

Trying to ignore his burgeoning erection, Danny tried to focus on what was happening on the television. That worked until Martin stopped in front of it to get his sleep clothes out of the dresser drawer. Looking at Martin's nicely shaped ass, outlined so carefully by the drape of the pants material just made Danny get harder. He even found himself licking his lips as Martin's hands moved to the hem of his undershirt and pulled it up and off, and then dropping the cotton item into the drawer.

That morning, Danny had thought that he'd seen things in the dim light - marks on Martin's body. Now, with two lights on in the room, there was no mistaking what he was seeing, and Danny found his erection quickly flagging as his mind registered what he knew to be welts on Martin's shoulders.

"Martin…" Danny managed to say, his voice sounding raspy and uncertain to his own ears.

Martin turned around, and Danny could see other marks on his body. Bruises that were caused by love bites, and bruising around each of Martin's nipples. "Changed your mind?"

Danny got to his feet and walked over to Martin, his hands shaking as he realized that Martin, plain, vanilla sex Martin, had let some bitch take a whip to him. His mind couldn't even consider the other things that the woman could have done to Martin, things that would leave marks like that on his body.

Martin was looking at him strangely, but Danny couldn't stop staring at the marks on Martin's body. He finally gestured toward Martin's chest and the bruising around his nipples. "Looks like that hurt."

Martin smiled slightly, his eyes taking on a distant look, and that disturbed Danny more than anything else had so far. The bitch had not only hurt his Martin, but Martin had enjoyed it, too! Martin nodded, "Yeah. But it was a good hurt. I wonder if Vin likes that, too?" Martin suddenly looked thoughtful. "He'll have a much better chance with Chris if he does."

Danny blinked slowly at Martin, feeling a bit confused. One second they were talking about what Martin's girlfriend had done to him, and the next Martin was wondering what Vin Tanner liked? And Chris Larabee?

Shaking his head, Danny moved so that he was between Martin and the bathroom. The man wasn't going anywhere until this was cleared up. "Who cares about Vin Tanner and Chris Larabee? I want to know about this." Danny once more indicated Martin's chest. Torn between wanting to comfort Martin and his fascination that Martin would ever do something like this, Danny had to curl his fingers tightly or else risk reaching out and tracing over those bruises and other marks.

Martin frowned. "I thought that's what we were talking about."

For some reason, Danny felt as if he were stuck in some surreal place where things had been turned topsy-turvy. It seemed as if Martin was the stone-cold sober one, and he was the one who'd drunk a bit too much. That is, if his slow mental uptake was anything to go by. And then it was if that thought cleared everything for Danny, and images and words from the past two days just fell into place. The waiter talking about Larabee's boy toy having expressive blue eyes, Martin's edginess about Larabee, Martin throwing up when he saw Vin Tanner for the first time.

"You were with Larabee." Danny's voice sounded flat even to his own ears.

Martin once more looked confused. "That's right. I told you that last night. You said you were okay with it."

Danny took a step toward his bed and sank down onto the edge of it, remembering that conversation on the plane. He'd thought that Martin was admitting that he'd been judging Larabee, and now he was finding out that Martin was telling him that he'd been the one with Larabee. Three simple words, three words that Danny misunderstood, because if he'd understood them at the time, then there'd be no way in Hell that he'd have been 'okay' with it. He could easily recall Martin's words, "It was me." And now, looking back, he could remember seeing the unease in Martin's eyes, and he realized that Martin hadn't been sure how he'd handle that admission.

"Danny?" Martin was now standing in front of him, a worried look on his face. "I know today was hard for you, but it's over now."

"Hard for me?" Danny asked. Martin had had to fly out to where Larabee worked, had gone through the man's house and personal belongings. Martin had had to meet a man who looked just like him, a man that Larabee considered a friend as well as a co-worker, and then Martin had gone to dinner with that man after finding out that Tanner was in love with Larabee. He was surprised that Martin hadn't gone screaming mad during the day, and the man was saying that the day had been hard on *him*?

"Martin…I didn't know." Danny looked up into Martin's face and saw the moment when the look of concern in those expressive blue eyes turned to confusion.

"But we were talking about it on the plane. You were talking about Chris and the guy he was with and I said…"

"I know what you said. But I didn't think that you…I thought you were admitting to being homophobic, Martin. Not that you spent this past week with Larabee."

And then it hit him like the proverbial ton of bricks. Martin had spent the past week being Larabee's fuck toy. Martin had sucked off the room service waiter because it was something Larabee wanted. And God, Danny remembered how easily he'd found it to imagine Martin doing that to him! That image had excited him, but the reality of Martin being spread open for Chris Larabee's amusement just made him feel sick. Words from Ron Bradley's interview were ping-ponging in Danny's mind: He was one sweet piece of ass…I really like a guy who knows his place…spankings, nipple clamps, a cock ring…He has a beautiful mouth…a very talented mouth…money or his mouth…sucking on Larabee's fingers…fuck his mouth…take him like the slut he is…God, but there's just something else about a guy when you're thrusting hard into his mouth and he's looking up at you, his eyes all dark and intense because he's getting off as much as you are…

Danny closed his eyes, not able to look at Martin right then. There was too much information twisting around in his head and he couldn't look at Martin and think clearly. Then another thought hit him, and Danny surged to his feet, taking Martin by surprise as he pushed him up against the wall, his pulse racing as he thought about others knowing what Martin had been doing. "Jack knows, doesn't he? That it was you?"

Martin nodded. "You were all out when I got back to the office from the courthouse, and I saw Chris's picture. I told Jack about it immediately; told him that I couldn't work the case. That's when he decided to send me to Denver."

"And had me bring in the tapes. He didn't want anyone seeing them because he knew that we didn't need them in order to ID the slut that Larabee'd been fucking all week."

Martin flinched, but right then, Danny didn't care. He'd moved past the confusion and slight numbness of finding out the truth, and now he was just angry. He was angry at Martin for never telling him that he liked men. He was angry at Chris Larabee for taking what Martin had offered, what Martin should have been offering to him, damn him! He was angry at Jack for knowing about it before he did, and…

Wait. Danny went back to what Martin had just said. It wasn't that he'd heard Larabee's name and knew, but that he'd seen Larabee's picture. Oh no, there was no way possible that Martin hadn't even known Larabee's name.

Shaking his head, Danny knew that he had to get that idea confirmed or denied. His partner might now be revealed to be wild enough to like the taste of a whip and the things Ron Bradley had described, but there was no way he'd be so careless and stupid as to go off with a stranger. Or was he? Right then, Danny was starting to feel that he didn't know Martin at all. "How long have you known Larabee?"

"Since last Sunday," Martin replied, a look of resignation now on his face. "I'd never seen him before then."

"So you met…got to know one another, went back to his hotel…"

"Something like that."

Danny looked intently into Martin's eyes and saw that he was holding something back. "Something like that? Where'd you meet him, Martin?"

"The Falcon. I was outside and Chris had just arrived, but he never made it inside. We met and went back to his hotel. You probably know a lot of what happened from interviewing that waiter."

Danny knew the Falcon. He'd been there plenty of times, but obviously not at the same times as Martin. He knew what kinds of hook-ups happened there, the anonymous sex that happened in the back rooms. Martin had gone off with a complete stranger and then spent the whole damn week with him. Danny wanted to hurt someone right then, Larabee mostly, but Martin secondly.

"How could you be that stupid?" Danny demanded, his fingers digging into Martin's upper arm as anger surged through him.

"That's pretty much what Jack said. I told him that I didn't deserve that kind of a lecture from him and I don't deserve it from you, either." Martin didn't seem worried about it, though, not about Danny's anger, nor about how stupid he'd been, and that just made Danny feel more angry and frustrated over Martin's attitude. 

Danny abruptly turned away from Martin and stepped away. He was just too close to doing something he'd vowed to never do, and that was to strike someone that he cared about. "You should get your shower now. I need to think about this and I can't think with you standing there half-naked."

"I can get dressed," Martin started to move toward the dresser.

"No!" Danny didn't turn around, but he knew that he couldn't think if Martin was in the same room with him. "Just go shower. I need to be alone."

Martin must have moved quietly, or else Danny was too angry to register his footsteps, because Danny didn't realize that Martin had left the room until he heard the sound of the bathroom door closing and locking.

Danny sank down onto the mattress, not sure what to think or do. He'd wanted Martin for such a long time now, cared about him for almost as long. And yes, he even loved the guy. It had taken a lot of thought and will power to convince himself that he never stood a chance with Martin, and for several reasons. The first reason being that Martin wasn't gay, or even bi-sexual. The second reason being that even if Martin did like the occasional guy, he most likely wasn't willing to submit to Danny as much as Danny would prefer.

Danny snorted as he remembered the way he'd secretly admired Chris Larabee for just reaching out to take and do what he wanted. He'd also been a bit envious that the guy had found a man willing to do those things for him, a man willing to submit so totally to him. That was Danny's dream, that one day he'd be lucky enough to find a guy like that. The fantasy was that the man would be Martin, but Danny was practical enough to know that fantasies rarely come true.

But now Danny was having to face the fact that Martin was either gay or bi, *and* he liked submitting to other men when it came to sex. Hell, judging by the smile Martin had given him when he'd commented on his bruises, Danny could tell that Martin even liked it when it hurt. His dream and fantasy rolled up into one person. So, Martin was available, and could potentially fulfill quite a lot of Danny's fantasies. There was just one small snag.

Martin obviously didn't like Danny that way. What else could explain the fact that in the two years that they'd known one another, Martin had never responded to any of Danny's overtures and flirtations? Granted, he never came right out and suggested spanking that fine ass, but he'd flirted plenty and had been suggesting almost as much. And Martin had never shown any interest at all in him.

But he'd shown a Hell of a lot of interest in a total stranger.

God, the idea of Martin going off with a stranger just made Danny's stomach turn. Aside from the fact that it was a stupid thing to do, Danny also found himself jealous that someone else had been touching Martin all week, someone who'd remained a stranger to Martin during that time.

Danny kicked the nightstand, not feeling any closer to a resolution of any kind than he'd been when Martin had gone into the bathroom. Speaking of which, Danny couldn't hear the water running, and Martin had already been in there for a few minutes. Shit, he'd probably pissed him off or something. So now, not only did Danny have to find some way to reconcile the fact that while Martin was gay, he could never be his, but to also find a way to soothe any and all ruffled feathers. Because when all was said and done, Danny's initial commitment to holding onto Martin's friendship was still there, and still firm. Danny just hoped that since Martin had no interest in being his lover, that he would still want to be his friend.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date originally published: April 14, 2009

Martin sat on the edge of the tub, feeling numb and cold inside. The worries that he'd had over Chris paled when compared with the worries he now had about Danny. The look in Danny's eyes had shaken him to his very core, not that he'd let on about that. It was the look that he'd feared seeing the night before when he'd told Danny about being with Chris…when he *thought* he'd told Danny about Chris. Danny couldn't stand to look to look at him now, let alone be near him. Martin wondered if it would be okay if he packed his things and slept in the car, so that Danny wouldn't have to put up with his presence. That would also give him some time to think about where to go once he put in his request for a transfer. It was pretty obvious that he and Danny could no longer work on the same team, and if Martin couldn't see Danny almost every day, then he didn't even want to be in the same city as the other man. His father had always wanted him to work in Washington, and Martin thought that maybe it was time to give in to his wishes. Oh, he'd hate having to live in the same area as his Dad, but he did deserve punishment of some kind for ruining the friendship he had with Danny.

Martin smiled slightly as he remembered the first time he ever saw Danny Taylor. It wasn't his first day on the job, but a few weeks earlier, when he'd come in to have his interview with Jack. He'd stepped out of the elevator and as he walked over to the receptionist, he'd spotted a man standing at the desk, talking animatedly with the woman. Both of them were laughing, and Martin thought that the man's laugh was the most wonderful sound he'd ever heard. He was looking forward to meeting this man, but before he neared the area, the guy left, walking briskly away and was out of sight by the time Martin reached the receptionist. But he'd seen enough of the guy to feed his fantasies, and between that night and his first day at work, that unknown man with the wonderful laugh had featured in many a dream and jerking off session. So, yeah, it was corny, but he'd wanted Danny from the first moment he saw him. Funny how that seemed so similar to what had happened with Chris, because Martin had wanted Chris from the first moment he saw him, too. And while Martin had found himself sexually attracted at first sight to other guys, it wasn't that same kind of want and need that he'd felt with Danny and Chris. Once he'd actually met each man, that want and need had blossomed into something more. With Danny, he could now admit to himself that time had turned that want and need into love. With Chris…well, it wasn't love, but Martin couldn't deny that he had genuine feelings for the man, cared about him and what happened to him.

Martin cared about whether or not Danny was happy or sad. He cared about how Danny saw him and what he thought about him. While it had bothered him to have Jack giving him the third degree and a lecture, Martin hadn't really been all that concerned about the repercussions. If they came, then they came. Yeah, he wanted Jack to think well of him, but he knew that his life was still worthwhile if that didn't happen. With Danny though, it was different. Danny's opinion mattered one Hell of a lot, and Martin had felt that he'd finally earned the other man's respect. And now it was gone, and that knowledge felt like a hot knife in Martin's gut.

Jack had been right. He'd never needed to tell Danny about Chris. With the way things turned out, it hadn't made a difference. If he'd have kept his mouth shut, then Danny wouldn't be on the other side of that wall hating his guts right then, and Martin wouldn't be sitting there like a bump on a log and feeling as if his world was collapsing around him.

There had to be a way to fix things, but Martin had no idea what that way might be. He could apologize, but had no idea what to apologize about. He could claim temporary insanity, but that would only explain one night, and not five, and it sure as Hell couldn't explain what he'd done with the waiter.

Martin got to his feet, thinking that the one thing he could do right then was shower as planned. He then noticed that he'd forgotten to bring his sleeping clothes with him, and he sure as Hell wasn't going to shower and then go back into the other room in just a towel. It was bad enough that Danny felt disgusted by what Martin had done with Chris, he didn't need Danny to think that Martin was trying to come on to him. Funny how knowing someone's sexual orientation changed things. Just that morning, and on other trips, Danny and he had never had any problems with being in front of each other in just towels or their underwear. But now Martin knew that Danny would think twice before exposing himself that much if Martin was in the room, and he sure as Hell wouldn't trust Martin being dressed in just a pair of boxers or a towel.

Sighing, he headed back into the other room, hoping that Danny wouldn't be too upset that he was back so soon. He headed directly to the dresser, noting that his drawer was still open. As he reached down to grab his T-shirt and sweatpants, Martin risked a glance to the side and saw that Danny was seated near the head of his own bed, eyes downcast. The man appeared to be deep in thought, and Martin decided it was best to just leave him be. After pushing the drawer closed, he turned to head back into the bathroom.

"Martin."

Martin paused as he heard Danny softly say his name, but he didn't dare look his way. If there was derision in those dark eyes, then he didn't want to see it. "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry." Danny's voice was still soft, but Martin could hear the sincerity there. He was about to assure Danny that he had nothing to apologize for when Danny spoke again. "I'm sorry that I misunderstood you last night, and I'm sorry that I reacted so badly just now to finding out about you and Larabee. But I'm the most sorry about the fact that I wasn't there for you today when you needed a friend. If I'd have understood you last night, then you wouldn't have had to endure all of this alone."

Martin finally turned to look at Danny. The man had gotten to his feet and was looking intently at him; and it wasn't derision that Martin saw in Danny's eyes, but hope. He nodded. "I should have explained things better last night. I just…when you said 'okay', I grabbed onto that, glad that I didn't have to say anything else. It's as much my fault as yours."

"Sometimes miscommunication happens," Danny said, a slight smile now on his face. "Still friends?"

Martin's heart leapt for joy at hearing that question, and he smiled back. Danny still wanted to be his friend, and that was more than Martin could have hoped for a few minutes ago. He nodded, "Still friends."

Danny nodded, then tilted his head toward the direction of the bathroom. "You'd better go on and get that shower. I think there's a game on tonight, and we can catch most of it if you hurry it up in there. I'll even spring for some popcorn and soda for us from the vending machines down the hall. I did promise you dessert."

Martin grinned. "Sounds good to me. I'll make it fast." 

Still grinning, Martin headed back into the bathroom, only this time he didn't lock the door. They'd never locked one another out before when sharing a room, and Martin didn't really see the need to start doing so now. Now he could see that Danny didn't have a problem with him also liking men as well as, or more than women, and there wasn't any reason to turn the lock as a way to reassure Danny that he didn't have designs on his body.

But oh, if only that were true. Martin had plenty of designs on Danny's body, but the one thing that hadn't changed between them was Danny's heterosexuality. Finding out that Martin liked men would have been the perfect opportunity for Danny to admit it if he had feelings for Martin. So, since Danny hadn't sat Martin down to declare his burning lust, or, as happened in some of Martin's fantasies, his undying love for him, he could only assume that Danny wasn't interested at all. 

As Martin turned on the water, he thought it somewhat ironic that despite all that had changed for him over the past 48 hours, having Danny's friendship had remained steady. Maybe that was a sign that everything else would turn out all right, given enough time. He quickly showered, washing his hair as well as his body. As he began to dry his body, he thought about shaving, but decided that it could wait until the morning. Well, at least his face could wait until then. He ran a hand over his groin, feeling the new growth and knew that by morning, he'd be itching there. It only took a few minutes to shave his groin and scrotum, and by then he was smelling popcorn, courtesy of the small microwave in the room.

Martin pulled on the T-shirt and pants, then gathered up his dirty boxers, socks and pants and headed into the main room. Danny was seated on one bed, with the pillows from both beds braced against the headboard. The bag of popcorn was beside him, and he'd gotten chocolate bars as well as sodas. Danny patted the open space on the other side of the bed.

"Saved your spot," Danny said, "And the game's about to start."

Martin opened the drawer and shoved his clothing inside, then quickly shut it and crawled over the bed to the spot Danny had indicated. The habit of getting comfortable on one bed to watch a game or a movie had started about a year earlier, when Martin had flown out to San Diego to join Danny in an investigation. They were still getting used to each other then, but had found themselves both agreeing on watching a movie that first night. That room also had a microwave in it, and Martin had seen microwaveable popcorn in the vending machine earlier, so it had been natural to suggest having popcorn while watching the movie. The only problem was that with each of them sitting on his own bed, the popcorn had to be constantly passed back and forth. It had been Danny who'd asked Martin to toss his pillows over to him and Martin had done so, then watched as Danny positioned them in some particular way that only Danny could manage. At least that's what Danny claimed every time Martin tried to set up a bed for their TV watching. He always found some fault or another with the way Martin arranged the pillows, and would have to pick them up, fluff them out, and then arrange them to his own satisfaction. To Martin's eyes, it always looked as if Danny put the pillows back in the same way that he'd put them in the first place, but Danny swore that that was never the case. 

Martin relaxed against the pillows, smiling his thanks as Danny handed him one of the soda cans. Danny looked relaxed as well, and Martin felt very grateful for that. He didn't know what he would have done if Danny had seemed ill at ease with him now that he knew the truth.

 

The game was at half-time when Danny noticed that Martin was no longer reaching into the popcorn bag. Not that there was much popcorn left, but Martin was usually the one to finish off the bag when they shared, and there was still a bit in there. Turning his head slightly because he didn't want to seem obvious, Danny tried to get a look at his partner. And he broke into a smile as he saw that Martin was propped up against the pillows, sound asleep. Danny reached out and gently removed the soda can before it ended up being spilled, and he sat it on the nightstand, then got the popcorn bag out of the way.

Twisting his body slightly, Danny was able to look at Martin without straining his neck. It never failed to amaze him just how young Martin looked while he was asleep. Granted, Martin looked younger than his age anyway, but when asleep, even more years seemed to peel away. The worries, guilt and responsibilities that Martin carried with him during the day would fade away at night, leaving him looking peaceful and content. And Danny couldn't help but wonder if Martin looked that content after he climaxed for Chris Larabee.

He'd promised himself that if Martin forgave him for being an ass, then he wouldn't obsess about Martin and Larabee again. So much for promises. But damn, it just made him ache deep inside when he looked at Martin and knew that he'd never be his. Martin worked hard at building a pretty sturdy wall around himself, but Danny had cracked that wall within months of them meeting, and he'd felt so damn proud of that, too. No-one else at work, not Jack, not Samantha, and not even Vivian, their resident mother hen, had cracked that wall. Oh, Martin would play nice with them, be the good son of the Deputy Director and do his family proud, but only Danny was able to get past that and get the real Martin Fitzgerald to appear. That's why it had broken his heart to watch Martin creep out of the bathroom earlier, his manner screaming defeat and sadness. That wasn't Martin. Hell, it wasn't Martin who told him that it was just as much his fault as Danny's. It wasn't Martin who accepted the olive branch with a smile and a nod. Nope. The real Martin was more like the one who'd glared at Standish during dinner, not caring if the man squirmed for hours as he waited for Martin to accept his apology. Hell, he'd been on the receiving end of that glare more times than he'd care to admit, and when Danny had made his apology, he'd been expecting that glare. He'd also been expecting Martin to at least tell him to go to Hell, but that hadn't happened, either.

Danny figured that this whole thing with Larabee, not just the case itself, but meeting Larabee's friends, had thrown Martin off of his game. Danny smiled slightly as he imagined the greeting Martin would give him on Monday morning, once he'd gotten plenty of rest and had more time to put this all behind him. Yeah, Martin would really let him have it, and he wouldn't be placated at all by the coffee that Danny was already planning to bring to the man. And bagels…no scratch the bagels. Just the coffee at first, and then he'd treat Martin to lunch. Maybe he could get a line on tickets for the next Nets game? Martin liked basketball and the Nets, and would enjoy going to one of their games. Yeah, coffee, lunch and tickets to the Nets. That would put him back in Martin's good graces by Wednesday at the latest.

Taking advantage of the fact that Martin was a fairly sound sleeper, Danny reached out and ran the backs of his fingers over Martin's cheek, not at all surprised when Martin's head turned toward his touch. He'd snuck many a secret caress, and each time the result had been the same, with Martin's head turning into his touches. It broke Danny's heart to know that Martin was apparently starved for love and affection, and his own heart ached to be the one to make all of that better. 

"God, Martin," Danny softly said, "It feels as if I've lost you before I ever had you." There really was a feeling of loss there for Danny, one that almost numbed him, it was so intense. It would have been far better if he'd never have learned about Martin's attraction to men, because then nothing would have changed. He'd have known that Martin was off-limits because he was straight and not interested, period. He'd grown accustomed to that feeling, and could handle it. But now that he knew that Martin liked men, but didn't want him that way, Danny couldn't help but feel slighted. Rejected, even. He'd prided himself on how well he'd come to know Martin, but now Danny felt as if he didn't know the man at all. How could he have missed that Martin liked men? Or that Martin was as much of a submissive as that room service waiter had implied? 

Danny liked to top, liked to dominate the man he was with, and that was an area where his pride had obviously led to his downfall. Danny had bragged more than once that he could look at a guy and tell whether or not he was willing to submit to another, willing to give himself up to the pleasures of another man. Of course, in reality, it was far more involved than that. Danny pondered over a popular term - dynamic power exchange. While most people viewed the tops or doms as having the power, it was really the subs who wielded it. A top or dom didn't do anything that the sub had not first agreed to, and by placing that much trust in the top, the man did all he could to honor that trust. A top also had the duty of making certain that the sub was safe. Well, as safe and unharmed as a person could be who was giving his body up to be whipped or hurt in some other way.

Danny pulled his hand away and shook his head as he heard a soft sound of protest from Martin. There Martin was, craving touch and affection, and totally ignoring the person in front of him who was so willing to give those things to him. Another sound from Martin caught Danny's attention, and he looked more carefully at Martin, then noticed the bulge beneath the sweatpants. Probably dreaming about Larabee, Danny thought bitterly. Damn lucky bastard to have had Martin, and now headed back home to Tanner, who looked just as fine as Martin. A damn lucky man, indeed.

Danny decided to let Martin have some privacy for his dream, and going to take a shower would give him that privacy. It would also give Danny a chance to take himself into his own hand, and get some release since watching Martin becoming aroused had given Danny's own cock a lot of ideas. And all of them seemed to involve Martin, clearly indicating that his cock had not yet gotten the memo that Martin was still off-limits.

Danny rolled to his other side and started to get up from the bed, but another sound from Martin made him stop. He could have sworn that Martin had muttered a name, and not just any name, but *his* name. Turning slightly, Danny looked back over at his sleeping partner, and by then it was even more apparent that Martin was having a really great wet dream. Martin was making the sweetest moaning noises Danny had ever heard, and his back even arched slightly, which just drew Danny's attention more fully on the erection that was pressing hard against that thick cotton material. Then it happened, Martin spoke again, and there was no doubt at all that it was his name that Martin was saying. Danny grinned at that. Martin might have enjoyed Chris Larabee during his waking hours, but it was him, Danny Taylor, who seemed to be the main attraction during Martin's dream time. 

The only thing that Danny wasn't sure about was if this was just some projection of Martin's sub-conscious, which would mean that Martin didn't consciously want him, but would have to be led slowly to the realization that he did. Or was it that Danny had just missed all the signs and Martin DID want him? Unable to resist, Danny rested his palm along the bulge of Martin's pants. "Damn, Martin…you are gonna be the death of me, you know that?" Danny could feel the heat of Martin's cock through the material, and he was finding it difficult to ignore the desire to finally see that cock.

"Danny?" 

"Yeah, babe, I'm here." Danny slid his hand up to the waistband, touching the bit of skin that was showing between the top of the pants and the hem of Martin's T-shirt. That skin was warm, too, and soft, yet Danny could so easily feel the underlying muscles.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking what's mine," Danny replied as his fantasy began to play out. It wasn't until he spread his fingers out over Martin's belly that he realized that it hadn't been his imagination providing Martin's question, but Martin himself. Looking up, Danny found himself gazing into two very confused eyes. But, at least they weren't angry eyes, Danny told himself, finding some reassurance with that. And Martin wasn't trying to move away, either. More importantly, Martin's erection hadn't eased one bit, which to Danny was a sure sign that Martin liked having Danny's hand right where it was.

Smiling slightly, Danny slid his hand under Martin's shirt, skimming the skin while he leaned over and placed a soft kiss on Martin's belly. Turning his head, Danny looked intently at Martin, and his smile grew broader as he watched Martin's eyes turn a much darker blue. His fingers found Martin's nipple, and he lightly raked his fingernails over the taut nub. "I want to see you naked."

Martin gasped softly, but his eyes never left Danny's. "Oh."

"Yeah. Sit up and let's get this shirt off of you." Danny brought his hand back down and he grasped the hem of the shirt, ready to pull it up and off once Martin sat up. Martin's eyes darted from his face to his hands, then back to his face, as if he was trying to assess the situation. Danny tugged on the hem, "C'mon. Off with it, Fitzie."

Martin closed his eyes for a moment, and when he reopened them, he sat up as well, and Danny went into action, quickly moving the shirt up Martin's body and then off. Danny tossed the shirt to the side before straddling Martin's thighs. They were face to face now, and Danny didn't waste any time before kissing the lips that he'd spent so much time dreaming about. They both moaned, and Danny ran his tongue over Martin's bottom lip, then quickly thrust it into Martin's open mouth. Tongues tangled, vying for control, tasting, caressing, probing. And then Martin's resistance disappeared, letting Danny do as he wished, and he wished to do a lot to Martin's mouth. He ran his tongue over as much of it as he could reach, tasting popcorn, chocolate and soda, mapping out each one of Martin's teeth, soothing his gums and teasing the other man's tongue. Pulling back slightly, Danny ran his tongue over Martin's full lower lip, then nipped lightly at it.

Danny pushed Martin back against the bed, acutely aware of the bulge of Martin's cock beneath his own body, but content for the moment to leave the exploration of that part of Martin's body for later. Right then, Danny wanted to taste Martin's skin and soothe away the bruises and other marks that Larabee had left behind. Moving slowly, Danny kissed his way from Martin's jaw to his neck and then downward, pausing every now and then to leave his own marks behind, ensuring that neither Martin nor anyone else could ever doubt that Martin belonged to him. And only him. Danny felt a surge of protectiveness at that thought, along with a bit of jealousy that some other man had already had Martin. 

A small yelp brought Danny's attention back to the present, and he realized that he'd bitten Martin's skin a bit too hard. He looked at the impression his teeth had made, and as he watched blood slowly seep into those impressions, Danny found himself flushed with excitement, especially as he noticed that the bite hadn't done anything to curb Martin's arousal. 

And then Danny's insides turned as the implications of those feelings hit him. He'd hurt Martin and liked doing it. And Martin had also enjoyed it, or so it seemed. Just as Martin had seemed to enjoy what Larabee had done to him. But he wasn't Chris Larabee. He was Danny Taylor, the man who had vowed that no matter what, he would never, ever be the same kind of man that Miquel Alvarez had been. If he was lucky enough to have a child, he'd never raise his hand to that child, never throw anything at him or her. And he'd never hurt the person he loved the way his father had done with his mother. Danny could so clearly remember his father slapping her around and laughing at her exclamations of pain.

A vow to be a good man, and here he was taking enjoyment from hurting the man he loved. Danny shook his head and then began to move away from Martin, ignoring the confused look in those beautiful blue eyes.

"This isn't right. I'm sorry, Martin." Danny went and sat on the other bed, too ashamed to even look at Martin right then. "I should have never done that to you, and I'm sorry."

Danny heard Martin moving around on the other bed, and realized that he was now seated across from him. "There's nothing to apologize for, Danny. I liked what we were doing."

Martin sounded hesitant, unsure, and Danny hated himself for making Martin feel that way. He also hated it that Martin had liked being hurt, and in that moment he hated Chris Larabee even more for being the kind of a man who took pleasure in that. There was no doubt that Danny liked to dominate his partners when having sex, and sometimes that domination would take a more physical turn. He got turned on big time when spanking a gorgeous and wriggling ass, but this was different. This thing that Martin and Larabee had shared was across the line that Danny had drawn so many years ago. Oh, he didn't fault Martin for what he liked. Danny was open-minded enough to realize that different people got off from different things. And he really couldn't fault Larabee for taking advantage of that, he'd been around enough clubs to know that there were plenty of true sexual sadists out there, and when one of them found a guy who enjoyed the pain, well, far be it for him to tell them no.

The problem was that Danny loved Martin, but despite his feelings, he knew that there was no way he'd ever be able to completely satisfy Martin. Martin would always crave the things that Danny wouldn't do, things that Danny couldn't do. And it wasn't because Danny didn't have the desire for them, because he now knew that he did, especially where Martin was concerned. The problem was that Danny wasn't willing to let himself cross that line and risk turning into his father.

"I know you did," Danny finally replied. He looked up and saw that the confusion that had been in Martin's eyes before was slowly being replaced by something else. It seemed cold, and impersonal, and Danny regretted putting that look into Martin's eyes.

"I see." Martin's voice was tight, and it tugged at Danny's heart. He wanted so much to move to the other bed and pull Martin into his arms and kiss away that hurt, but he didn't dare do it. Because kissing would lead to something else and then he'd risk losing control, and Danny couldn't allow that to happen.

Danny's eyes went to the bite mark, and he was relieved to see that while he'd raised blood, the bite wasn't freely bleeding. Martin got to his feet and walked around the bed, grabbing his T-shirt and then heading into the bathroom. The slamming of the door made Danny jump, and he felt as if he'd just made the worst mistake of his life even as he knew that he'd done what he'd had to do. Martin would just have to understand and accept that decision.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date originally published: April 14, 2009

Martin leaned against the sink, his eyes closed as he tried to get his emotions under control. So many different feelings had run through him in such quick succession that he wasn't really sure just what he was feeling at the moment. There'd been joy, arousal, love, and then confusion, disbelief, shame and anger. Martin had never felt ashamed of the things he'd done, of the things he liked, until this weekend. First Jack had evoked that feeling out of him, and now Danny.

Opening his eyes, Martin turned on the hot water and reached for the soap and a washcloth, needing to clean the bite that Danny had given him. He wasn't really used to cleaning his own wounds, not that he'd had many of them. Most of his lovers never broke the skin, and the few that had, well, they'd been there to clean the wounds and make sure that they didn't get infected. Human bite marks were a bit more dangerous than wounds caused by nipple clamps that were too tight, or playing with body piercing. While those broke the skin and drew blood, they didn't leave bacteria behind. Wetting the soap and cloth with the hot water, Martin worked up a good lather and then rubbed the cloth harshly over the wound, wishing there was a way to scrub away the memory of the infliction of the bite from his mind the same way he was scrubbing away the blood.

Danny had seemed to really want him, and that had both shocked and pleased Martin. He'd just started to get over the shocked part when Danny had had a sudden change of heart and stopped things. But, Martin could have handled that kind of rejection. It wouldn't have been the first time that a guy had gotten him all hot and bothered and then just walked away. No, what had torn into Martin's heart had been Danny's admission that he couldn't handle the fact that Martin had enjoyed being hurt.

Martin wasn't sure if it was ironic or some sort of cosmic karma that had Danny not only liking men, and then wanting him, but then having Danny being repulsed by Martin's deviant nature. Martin made a face at that term, hating it. He'd always hated it, and had tried to believe that different people liked different things, and that didn't make them perverts or deviants. No, he'd seen too many true perverts and deviants in his job to know the difference between what he liked and what those truly were. But Hell, both Jack and Danny seemed to think that Martin fell into that category, and Martin now wondered if he'd just been deluding himself all these years.

As Martin dried the wound, he couldn't help but feel as if the walls were closing in around him. He needed to get outside, needed to run and let the physical exertion empty his mind of the jumbled mess that was rolling around inside. Despite Danny's teasing that he'd been up too early on Friday, he'd not had time for a run that morning, since he'd been needed early at the courthouse. And with the red-eye flight to Denver and needing to get sleep, there'd been no run the next morning, either. Nodding at his own reflection, Martin decided that a run was just what he needed right then. Not wanting to waste time once he was finished running, Martin went on and brushed his teeth, pretending to not notice that doing so also erased the last reminder of Danny that had been left. If he could no longer taste the man, then he couldn't miss him, right?

Martin grabbed his T-shirt and headed back into the other room. Danny was stretched out on the other bed, seemingly absorbed by the game. If the man had looked at him as Martin entered the room, then he'd done so in such a way as to keep Martin from noticing. Martin reached into his drawer and pulled out a sweatshirt and socks, then sat on the end of the empty bed and pulled them on. It wasn't until he reached for his shoes that Danny spoke.

"Going somewhere?"

"Out for a run," Martin replied, hoping that the tone of his voice had sounded as nonchalant as Danny had been. "I don't know how far I'll go, and I'm taking my key with me, so you don't have to wait up."

"You're going running at night? In a strange city?" 

Martin glanced back as he picked up on the worried tone in Danny's voice. "It'll be okay. I've done it before."

"That's a stupid line of reasoning," Danny said, now sounding angry or perhaps frustrated. "Is that what you told yourself when you went off with Larabee? That it would be okay to go off with a stranger because you'd done it before?"

Martin jerked hard on his shoelace as he finished tying the shoe. Getting to his feet, he turned to look at Danny, anger coursing through him at Danny's attitude. "No. It was what I told myself when you started kissing me." 

Martin was only slightly satisfied by the way Danny seemed to pale at those words. He grabbed his key and slipped it into his shoe, then headed for the door.

"Martin, wait." Danny's voice had an urgent edge to it, but Martin didn't turn around. "We need to talk."

Martin didn't trust himself to reply, so he did the only thing he could. He opened the door and stepped into the hallway, then headed for the closest stairwell, not willing to risk the wait for an elevator should Danny try to follow him. For all that he loved Danny, there were times when he simply did not understand the man, and this was one of them. Danny had made his feelings quite clear, and as far as Martin could see, no amount of additional talking was needed. Most likely Danny just wanted to make sure that Martin wouldn't get back to New York and start spreading tales about Danny and his brush with the 'wild side' of life. Hell, Martin was too ashamed of being rejected in such a cold way to ever consider sharing that little episode with anyone else.

Reaching the main floor, Martin was pleased to see that the door exited directly into the parking lot and locked behind him as he left the building. He started to run right then, beginning with an easy pace and slowly building to a full-out run. Running had always helped to clear Martin's mind, but tonight it felt that no sooner had he reached that empty state, then his mind would once more be flooded with the memories of Danny's caresses and kisses, and final rejection. Martin increased his pace, as if he could outrun those memories or run so hard that nothing else mattered. A few miles into his run, he found himself beginning to breathe harder than usual, but it wasn't until he had to stop because of having difficulty breathing that Martin remembered that Denver was at a much higher altitude than New York, and the oxygen was thinner here than back home.

Martin came to a stop, resting his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. He had no idea how far he'd run, and wasn't even sure what street he was now on. He thought that he'd followed the road that led from the hotel, but he'd been in such a daze while running that Martin wasn't certain if he'd stayed on that road. Looking up, he noticed that he wasn't all that far from a street corner, and he walked over to it, relieved to see by the street sign that he was still on the same road.

Breathing heavily, Martin noticed that there was a convenience store on the opposite corner, and it was still open. He decided that once he had gotten his breathing back a bit more under control, he'd go over there and find out just how far he'd gone, and then rest up a bit more before making the run back to the hotel.

 

Danny paced the floor of the hotel room, his hair sticking up every which way due to him constantly running his fingers through it as he tried to figure out just what the Hell was wrong with Martin. It was one thing for Martin to be angry with him. The man had every right to feel that way, and Danny knew that he'd hurt Martin when he'd stopped what they were doing. Although, God knew he hadn't realized just how deep that hurt had gone until he'd seen Martin's eyes right before the guy had stalked out of the room. For a brief moment, Danny had wondered if the emotional hurt he'd inflicted had been worse than the physical hurt, and he was tempted to rush to Martin, gather him in his arms and kiss away that pain. But then his common sense had kicked back in, and Danny had remained seated, knowing that giving in to his own desires right then would just lead to more trouble down the road.

Martin had no sense of self-preservation, Danny was certain of it. Oh, he'd had inklings of it before, during cases, but now he could see that it wasn't just a sometime thing, but an all of the time thing. Martin hadn't thought twice about going jogging in a strange town, at night. Alone. Hell, the man hadn't even taken his gun with him, not that he ever did. There'd been more than one out of town trip where Danny had tried his best to get Martin to take his gun when jogging, and Martin had simply and calmly refused. Either the guy really thought that being a Fitzgerald was all the protection he needed, or he had a death wish. Right then, Danny was leaning toward the idea that Martin did have a self-destructive streak running through him. How else to explain his penchant for being on the receiving end of something that went far beyond what one usually imagined when they thought about BDSM? Once more, Danny felt a surge of anger toward Chris Larabee, as much for the fact that the asshole had used Martin that way, as because Larabee had had the pleasure of having Martin, and Danny never would. Danny was also angry that Larabee obviously didn't have to worry about crossing that line, not the way Danny did. Larabee seemed to be a man who was in control at all times, at least that was the impression he'd gotten from the members of Team 7. And Danny had no doubts at all that Larabee never once lost control while with Martin, never turned into a monster who only wanted to demean and hurt others. Larabee wouldn't need to use his dominance to make himself feel better about his life, the way Danny's father had done. The way Danny was afraid that he'd do, if he had the chance.

Danny glanced at his watch, wondering just how much more time he should give Martin before he went out looking for him. He'd already been out for thirty minutes, how much more time did he need? A strange town, pitch black outside, and Martin had gone for a run. Danny shook his head, once more feeling as if he'd never understand the man. The ringing of his cell phone startled Danny, as he wasn't expecting a call from anyone. Martin's cell phone was still on top of the dresser, right where he'd left it. Yet another stupid mistake on Martin's part, going out without a means to call for help. 

Danny glanced at the read-out on the screen, frowning when he didn't recognize the number. "Taylor," he said, thinking that maybe it was one of Larabee's team on the line.

"Hey, it's me."

Martin. Danny felt a jolt of relief at hearing that voice. And then the worry set in again. Why would Martin be calling him? And how was Martin calling him?

"Danny?"

"I'm here. Where are you? Are you okay?" Danny couldn't keep the worry out of his voice.

"I'm okay." There was an amused tone to Martin's voice, and that rankled Danny. How could Martin be amused when he was stuck here in their room worrying his ass off? "I'm calling from a convenience store about twelve miles from the hotel. The manager was nice enough to let me use their phone since I don't have any money on me."

"Twelve miles? You ran twelve miles?" Danny couldn't believe that Martin would have gone that far from the hotel. Twelve miles total, that he could understand. But twelve miles one way?

"Yeah, but I don't think I'm gonna be able to run those twelve miles back to the hotel. You're not already in bed, are you?"

Danny slowly grinned. Martin was stuck out there and needed him. There was a warm feeling in his stomach, and his earlier bout of self-recrimination faded away as the idea of Martin needing him took precedence. "No, I'm not in bed yet. I'm guessing that you'd like me to come and get you?"

"Well, either that or wait outside of the hotel with my wallet so I can pay for a taxi," Martin replied, and Danny thought that he sounded more amused than before. "It's not hard to find the store, as it's on the same road as the hotel. Just take a right out of the parking lot."

"Sounds easy enough. I'll be there soon." Danny walked to the dresser and grabbed his gun, securing it to his waistband. "Just do me one favor, Fitzie."

"What's that?"

"Stay inside of the store until I get there. I don't want you standing on the corner by yourself." Danny knew that Martin would be vulnerable out there, and didn't like that idea at all. He grabbed his wallet and shoved it in his back pocket, then put the key card for the door in a front pocket and grabbed his keys. All he needed was his shoes, and he'd be on his way.

"I can do that. Thanks, Danny."

Danny smiled at the warm tone he heard, liking it much better than the bitterness that he'd heard in Martin's words right before the guy had left. "No problem. That's what friends are for, right? I'll be right there." 

Danny ended the call, not wanting to delay his mission of going to get Martin. He slipped his phone into his other front pocket, then sat down to put on his shoes. Martin needed to be safe in their room, and not twelve miles away on some dark and dangerous Denver street.

Danny left the room and headed for their rental car. The twelve miles seemed to pass by slowly for Danny, and when he finally saw a convenience store, he felt relieved once more. Parking near the door, Danny got out of the car and frowned. There was just one street light, and it was right there on the corner. The cross-street didn't have any streetlights on it at all, and the lights on the street he was on were spaced at one per block, always on a corner. It sent a shiver down his spine as he thought of Martin out there running along such a dangerous road.

Walking inside the store, Danny heard voices and he turned his head to the right to see that Martin and another man were at the counter, talking. Or rather, Martin was talking and the other man was standing there ogling him. Martin was seated on the counter, a half-empty bottle of water in his hands, and he smiled as he spotted Danny. 

Hopping off of the counter, Martin turned toward the other man, who Danny guessed was the night manager. "Looks like my ride is here."

The manager, who looked to be all of thirty, smiled back at Martin, and Danny didn't even try to hide his scowl at that. The man had no right to be flirting with Martin, no right at all.

"Hey, meet Hank. Hank, this is Danny," Martin said, introducing the two of them. He turned back to Danny. "Did you bring any money with you? I need to pay for the water." 

"Sure." Danny was reaching for his wallet when Hank placed a hand on Martin's upper arm. "No problem." But, there was definitely going to be a problem if that asshole didn't let go of Martin in the next five seconds.

"Don't worry about it. It doesn't cost all that much and you needed it. Next time you want to go for a jog here, remember that you're not used to the altitude." Hank smiled at Martin, then looked at Danny. "I thought for a minute there that he was going to need mouth-to-mouth resuscitation."

Danny's eyes narrowed as he looked at the manager, and he pulled two dollars out of his wallet, not liking the idea of Hank's lips being anywhere near Martin. "Here. This should cover the cost of the water and the phone call."

Hank waved his free hand toward him. "It's on the house." Hank had finally picked up on Danny's mood, or so Danny thought, because his smile was faltering, and he slowly let go of Martin's arm, although his gaze had quickly gone from Danny and back to Martin in a second. Martin, oblivious as always, smiled happily back at Hank.

"I really appreciate it. I wasn't looking forward to running or walking back to the hotel, and finding your place open was a Godsend."

"Yes, we really do appreciate it," Danny echoed as he shoved the money back in his wallet, not really liking the way Hank was staring at Martin. "We need to be on our way back now."

"That's probably a good idea," Hank said. "Purgatorio isn't the best neighborhood in the city, and your car might not be there if you leave it unattended for too long."

Martin immediately looked worried. "Are you sure it's safe for you to be open this late if the neighborhood is that bad?"

That comment angered Danny. How could Martin ignore the fact that he'd been running in that same bad neighborhood and yet be concerned that Hanky boy was in danger? "I'm sure he's okay here, Martin. As a matter of fact, we're probably keeping Hank from closing."

Hank looked as if he was going to argue the point, but Danny glared at him, and Hank swallowed heavily, then smiled at Martin. "I was about to close up for the night when you came through the door. Why don't I walk with you two to the door so I can lock up right after you leave?"

"Sure." Martin headed toward the door, and Danny quickly moved so that he was between Martin and Hank. There was no way that he was going to risk having Hank and his roaming hands and ogling eyeballs near Martin again.

"You know, I know that I was staring at you for a bit, but it's because you remind me of someone who lives in the neighborhood," Hank said as he seemed to ignore Danny's presence. "You're not by any chance related to Vin Tanner, are you?"

Martin stopped and looked at Hank, a grin on his face. "I know him, and to be honest, we don't know if we're related. It's something that we're going to look into. So, he lives in this neighborhood?"

Danny shared Martin's surprise over hearing that. Tanner was a Fed, and made a decent salary. Why on Earth would he live in a neighborhood as bad as Hank made this one sound?

Hank nodded. "Yeah. He said that he lived here years ago, when he first came to Denver, and he doesn't see any reason in leaving now, just because he's a cop or something like that. Vin's pretty active at the community center, and the kids here just seem to gravitate to him. He's got an open door policy of sorts at his place, and the kids have never abused that, which is as much a testament to Vin's influence as it is to their honesty. Me?" Hank shrugged. "I wouldn't trust most of the kids here to not rob me blind if I turn my back on the register."

"Vin seems to be a good judge of character," Martin replied as he once more headed toward the door.

They were now at the door, and while Danny found Tanner's living arrangements to be interesting, they weren't as important as getting Martin out of there and back to the hotel where he'd be safe.

"Well, I'll probably be out this way again once Vin and I get things figured out. Maybe I'll see you then," Martin said. And damn if Hank's eyes didn't light up at hearing that.

Danny frowned, "Yeah, maybe *we'll* see you then." Hell would freeze over before Danny let Martin come back to Denver alone. It was bad enough that Larabee would be there, but now Danny had to worry about Hank getting his hands on Martin, too. Danny might not be able to trust himself with Martin, but he sure as Hell wasn't going to just let anyone have what he couldn't. 

Hank's smile, which had been firm at Martin's words, faltered as Danny spoke, and Danny couldn't help but feel a bit of elation over that. "I'll be looking forward to seeing you both again," Hank said, giving Danny a look that clearly indicated that Hank had picked up on Danny's message and understood it.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date originally published: April 15, 2009

After a quick goodbye, Martin and Danny were finally out of the store, and Danny didn't hold back his sigh of relief. For someone who supposedly grew up in comfortable surroundings, Martin seemed to have a knack for getting into all kinds of uncomfortable situations. Danny hit the buttons that would automatically unlock the car, and he got in and started the engine.

Martin got in and began to put on his seatbelt. "Hank seems like a nice guy."

Danny secured his seatbelt. "The guy was practically all over you. God only knows what he would have done if it had taken me longer to get here."

Danny knew that he'd said the wrong thing because there was a sudden freeze coming from the other side of the car. He didn't need to turn his head to know that Martin was glaring at him. He knew that he should just shut up and not say anything else, but there were times when Danny's self-censor just shut off, and this was obviously one of those times. "I don't know what the Hell you were thinking, Martin. Jack and I have both gone blue in the face trying to convince you that it's just not safe for you to go jogging alone when you're out of town, but you do it anyway. And you never take your gun, and very rarely your cell phone. What would you have done if someone had tried to mug you?"

"Well, given your current opinion of me, I guess I'd offer up my body and see if I got any takers," Martin snapped back.

Danny glanced over at Martin, taking in the rigid way that Martin held his body and knew that he'd really hurt the guy before. He had to find someway to remedy that, or else the flight back home was going to be Hell. "I don't have a bad opinion of you, Fitzie."

"No? Then why did you say that about Hank? The man saw that I was having trouble breathing and he gave me a safe place to sit and get my breath back, and he gave me water. At no point did he ever suggest that I pay for that with sex. You know, just because your mind seems to live in the gutter, it doesn't mean that everyone else thinks that way."

"My mind isn't always in the gutter, Martin. But, I'm not blind. I saw the way he was looking at you, and the way he was flirting. If you'd have given him any encouragement at all, then he'd have…" Danny let his sentence trail off as he began a three-point turn so they could head back to the hotel.

"So what? It's not your business, Danny. You made it pretty clear earlier that you're not interested in me, so you can just keep your nose out of my sex life. As long as I'm not with you, then it doesn't matter who I'm with."

"It matters, Martin. I'm your friend, and this whole thing you've got going on of going off with strangers has me worried for you."

"Jeez, Danny, you make it sound like that's something I do on a nightly basis!" Danny heard Martin chuff in annoyance. "Look. The thing with Chris was different. The times when I do go to the Falcon and hook up with someone, we stay there. I don't go off with strangers."

"You went off with Larabee."

"And I said that he was different. I knew that I could trust him, and he didn't betray that trust, either. You know, if not for someone grabbing him and Chris becoming a case for us, you'd have never known about any of this. You never worried about my sex life before today, so there's no need for you to worry about it now."

"That's where you're wrong. I've always worried about you," Danny said, and then he felt like kicking himself for revealing that much to Martin. It was hard enough to keep himself from parking the car and pulling Martin into his arms, and it would be ten times harder if Martin knew just how much Danny cared for him. Knowing Martin, he'd push the issue, and argue with Danny's reasoning as to why they couldn't be together. Martin, for all of his now apparent worldliness where sex was concerned, and occasional comments that there was no such thing as true love, still believed in happy endings and that love was what mattered the most, and he would do his best to convince Danny that everything would be all right because he loved him.

"You make it sound as if you really care." Martin's tone was even, and Danny was too busy watching the road to be able to tell from the look on Martin's face just how he meant that.

"I do. Like I said, I'm your friend." Danny hated not telling the whole truth, but this was his chance to keep Martin from finding out his true feelings, and Danny was enough of a coward to take that chance.

"I see. Just a friend."

"Right." Danny turned into the parking lot, and headed for their previous parking spot. It was late enough that it should still be available.

"And since when do friends caress each other and flirt endlessly?"

"Hey, you know me, Fitzie. I flirt with anything that moves," Danny made himself grin as he brought the car to a stop.

"I see. I guess I've just never noticed you flirting with Jack before. Next time it happens, let me know, so I can watch. So, what about the other thing? You know, when you had your hand up under my shirt and then you were stripping it off and kissing me all over? Is that something that friends do, too? Or just something you do with anything that moves?"

Shit. Martin was moving into dangerous territory with those questions, and Danny felt himself panicking over how to respond. The wrong answer and he'd risk losing Martin's friendship, as well as hurting him once more. Danny had never, ever wanted to hurt Martin, and his heart ached over having done so once already, or was it twice? He didn't want to do it again, even inadvertently. The right answer, and Martin would begin to get a glimpse of how Danny really felt, and that calling it friendship just wasn't the right wording at all. Either way, Danny knew he was screwed. Hurt Martin again, and have to live with that, as well as what Vivian just might say once she saw that Martin was hurt. Or let Martin in on the fact that he was in love with him and then have to fend Martin off from then on.

Maybe Danny could explain things now, and Martin would understand his reasoning? Martin had issues with his father, and if he was being reasonable, then he'd understand the issues that Danny had with his own father. The problem was that Danny never talked about his childhood, not to Martin, anyway, so this would all be news to him. The other problem was that one could never tell when Martin was going to be reasonable about something.

Danny turned off the engine and pocketed the key, then took off his seatbelt and turned in the seat so he could look at Martin. Martin was looking out the side window, a sure sign that he was upset, even if his voice had never clued Danny in on that. "My father was a harsh man, Martin. He didn't like his life, and he tended to take that out on us. None of us were safe from his fists when he was drunk, and it seemed that he was drunk all of the time. If he wasn't hitting Mama, then he was hitting Rafi and me. One night, we were out in the car, and he and Mama were arguing, shouting at one another. I couldn't take it any more, and I screamed for them to stop. He turned around, and I could see his arm raising up, and I knew he was going to backhand me. But he never did because he left his lane and hit another car. They were both killed, and Rafi and I ended up in foster care. I made a vow to myself that I'd never be like him, Martin. I would never hurt someone that I loved, or claimed to love. I'd never be a stinking drunk. I broke part of that vow when I started drinking, and every day that I'm sober, I thank God for letting me keep that vow now."

At least he'd told Martin about being an alcoholic, so that wasn't coming as a surprise. Danny shook his head. "When I bit you, I liked it. I liked your gasp of pain, I liked the way you reacted to me doing that. I liked it that I could do that to you. And I can't let those feelings take hold of me, Martin. I can't take the risk of turning into my father."

Martin had turned to look at him, and Danny could see the concern in his eyes. Martin was silent for a bit, and then he nodded. "So you love me, and don't want to hurt me."

Danny nodded and turned his head to look out through the windshield. The lights in the parking lot were working well, and there were a lot more of them than there had been down by the convenience store. Danny could easily see the emotion in Martin's eyes, and it was tearing him up to see the concern and love present there, which made it damn hard to look the guy in the eyes right then. "That's pretty much it, yeah. I can't stand the thought of hurting you, Martin. And I won't take the chance of becoming something…someone, that I hated so much."

"Danny…it's not like that. What your father did, he did in anger and frustration. What you did to me, you did because…"

"Because it gave me pleasure to hurt you, Martin!" Danny shouted, jerking his head back around toward Martin. Martin drew back against the passenger side door, clearly wary now. Danny gave himself a mental kick for losing control like that, but he couldn't risk Martin talking him out of his decision. "Dammitt, Martin, I'm trying to do the right thing here, for the both of us. I refuse to turn into my father, and I refuse to hurt you. And there's no way that I can have sex with you and not risk hurting you. I get too caught up in everything, and then it's happening, and I won't have that. I won't do that to you or to me."

"But it was okay, Danny." Martin was still as far on the other side of the car as a person could get, but his voice sounded sure and firm, and not scared. Danny took some comfort in that small fact. "I liked what you did."

"I know," Danny said, his voice low as he remembered the way Martin had reacted to being bitten. What he had to say now was going to inflict yet another emotional hurt on Martin, but it couldn't be avoided. "And that's another part of the problem. I can't trust that you'd stop me if I went too far with you. You obviously enjoy pain, find it arousing. And yes, I freely admit that it was a big turn on for me when I bit you. But if I crossed that line and did something that would cause you too much pain, I'd need to trust that you'd push me away or something. And I can't trust you to do that. I've seen the marks on your body, the bruises that Larabee left behind." Danny shook his head. "I can't risk that."

An uneasy silence descended inside of the car, and Danny couldn't handle the look that Martin was giving him. It was still that caring, loving look, and Danny had expected anger, or maybe even disgust over Danny's lack of faith in Martin. Seeing love in Martin's eyes still was unexpected, and Danny didn't know how to deal with that. So, he looked away. Maybe it was time to go inside to their room?

"So, even if I promised you that I'd stop you, you wouldn't trust that I'd keep my promise?" Martin asked, breaking the silence.

The uncertainty in Martin's voice cut through Danny, and he wished like Hell that Martin hadn't asked that. "That's right." He forced himself to look back at Martin, and now there was another look in those expressive blue eyes, a look of pain. "I interviewed Ron Bradley, Martin. I heard his description of you and how you were, and no, I don't think that you'd be able to keep that promise. Not that you'd intentionally break it, but that you'd just get so caught up in what was happening that you'd forget to stop me."

"You underestimate my will power," Martin replied. "I've wanted you since the moment I first saw you, and that was before I ever met you." He shook his head. "I can see that there's nothing I can say or do that's going to change your mind, at least not right now. So, I won't even bother. But know this; just because you tell me you love me and want to be with me, that doesn't give you the right to interfere in my life. You don't get to vet my lovers or tricks, and you sure as Hell don't have the right to pass judgment on anything I do. You want to worry, fine. Worry. But I don't want to hear about it."

Martin opened his door and began to get out of the car. Danny wanted to stop him, wanted to try to explain himself again. Hell, he wanted to reassure Martin that he loved him and only wanted the best for him. But a part of him knew that Martin was right. He couldn't just declare his love, back away and then still try to be a part of Martin's life. It wasn't fair to Martin and there was no sense in both of them being miserable. Sighing, Danny got out of the car, locked it and followed Martin into the hotel, wondering if it was possible for them to be as close friends as they were before this weekend.

 

Martin knew that Danny was behind him, and the part of him that was brought up to be a gentleman thought that maybe he should walk a little slower and let Danny catch up to him so that they could go up to their room together. But the part of him that was hurt and trying to not let it show vetoed that idea. It was his intent to get to the elevator first and hopefully be alone in the car, and not have to deal with Danny again until their room.

Fate, however, wasn't looking out for Martin, not that that was anything new. How a really good week could go to Hell so fast was still beyond his comprehension, and Martin could only hope that his life wouldn't get any worse before making an upward turn. The indicators above the two elevators showed that one elevator was on the 6th floor, and the other on the 9th. If Martin waited, then Danny would catch up to him, and he wasn't ready for that. He went over to the stairwell and headed up to their floor, knowing that walking up four flights of stairs would be easy enough after the run he'd had. If fate decided to be kind, then Danny would wait for an elevator, and not think about taking the stairs.

Once in the room, Martin went to the dresser to grab a T-shirt, so he could change for bed. As soon as he touched it, he let it go, not wanting the reminder of what he'd almost had with Danny. He was far too sober to be able to put that shirt back on without his heart aching. Martin slammed the drawer shut and grabbed his wallet instead, knowing that what he wanted right then was to get so drunk that he couldn't even remember Danny's name, let alone how Danny had made him feel when they were on Danny's bed.

Martin took the time to turn off the television, surprised that Danny had left it on. The guy must have been really worried about him if he'd forgotten to do something so simple. And the knowledge that Danny had been worried because he loved him just made his heart ache even more. He hurried out of the room, and was almost to the elevators when one of them dinged to signal its arrival, and Danny stepped out into the hallway.

They looked at each other for a few moments, and then walked toward each other, both uneasy as they met up a few feet away from the elevators.

"I'm going to the hotel bar," Martin said. "There's no need for you to wait up."

Danny looked as if he was going to argue, but instead he nodded and looked at his watch. "Our flight's at six," Danny reminded him. "And we need to turn the rental back in, so we should try to leave here around 3:30."

Martin nodded. The hotel was just a mile or so from the airport, so it wouldn't take long to get there. The biggest hold-up would be if a lot of people were turning in their rental cars. "I'll be back here before then."

Depending on when the bar closed, Martin could maybe get away with spending most of his night in there, away from Danny and the temptation to do anything and everything he could to make things right between them.

"You're going dressed like that?" Danny asked. 

Martin looked down at himself, not seeing anything wrong with his sweatpants and sweatshirt. "Yep. I'm going to get drunk on my ass, Danny, not to pick up someone for the night. There's no need to try to look good if I'm just going to get shit-faced drunk." Martin could feel the disappointment radiating from Danny, and this time he wasn't going to just ignore it. "I know how you feel about it, but after the past twenty-four hours that I've had, if anyone deserved to get that drunk, it's me. And as I pointed out downstairs, you don't have the right to interfere with my life or to judge what I do. All you need to know is that I'll be packed and ready to leave for the airport on time. I suggest you make sure that you do the same."

Without looking to see how Danny took that little declaration, Martin went into the stairwell, too chicken to wait on the elevator with Danny standing right there. He knew that if Danny gave him that imploring look that plainly said that alcohol wouldn't solve anything and wouldn't he much prefer just going on into the room and getting some sleep, then he'd cave in. Five minutes later, he was seated at the bar and starting on his first whiskey for the night. Or fourth, if he wanted to count the ones he'd had back at the saloon. Either way, this time he wasn't going to stop drinking until he either passed out or was shown the door, whichever came first. His heart ached too much for any other alternative to be acceptable. Oh, he knew he'd pay for it come morning and their flight home, but six a.m. was a long way off, and Martin figured that being numb for those hours was well worth the hangover that would come afterward.

 

Danny watched Martin leave, Hell, running away was more like it. And instead of wanting to stop Martin, Danny found himself wanting to join him. The lure of the numbness that would come with getting a few drinks in him was as enticing as ever before. Maybe even more so under the circumstances. Right then, the only thing holding Danny back was knowing that if he set foot in the hotel bar and ordered a drink then Martin would see him. Danny didn't think that Martin would ask him not to drink, or even tell him not to. No, Martin would do something much more devastating. He'd stand there and look at him, looking guilty as if he was to blame for Danny falling off the wagon and returning to something he'd vowed to never once again do.

Danny quickly retreated to the safety of their room, glad that it didn't have a mini-bar. As soon as the door closed, Danny had his cell phone out and was dialing the number for Adam, his sponsor. As he toed off his shoes and listened to the ringing of Adam's phone, Danny reflected that it had been a while since he'd had to call Adam about wanting a drink. And ironically enough, the last time had also been Martin related. It had been when Victor had loosed an OPR investigation on Jack, and Danny had laid into Martin as if it were all his fault, when he knew that it wasn't. That is, until Martin had shown up at his door later that night, looking exhausted and beaten.

******************************************************************  
Danny had just turned off the TV and was headed toward his bedroom when he heard the doorbell, followed by a soft knock. He glanced at his watch, a scowl emerging as he saw that it was almost midnight. Who in their right mind would be at his door this late? Danny went to the door and peered through the eyehole, then shook his head as he saw that it was Martin outside. Only Martin would be that stupid, brave, or desperate enough to show up at his place at this hour.

Danny opened the door, intending to quickly send Martin on his way. It was too late to entertain visitors, and he sure as Hell didn't want to be entertaining Martin, not when it looked as if Daddy dearest was going after Jack's head. But Danny's intention to be rude quickly faded as he got a good look at the younger man. Martin looked worn out, still dressed in what he'd worn to work that day. A closer look though told Danny that he was wrong. Martin didn't just look tired. He looked as if all of his confidence and self-esteem had disappeared, and the look in his eyes as he tried to smile at Danny was enough to break Danny's heart. Martin was hurting big time, and instead of turning the man away, Danny quietly stood aside so that Martin could come on in.

Martin walked in slowly, his shoulders stooped. He stopped just a few feet inside of the apartment and then turned to look at Danny, his eyes bleak.

"You were right. My father is using the OPR to get Jack," Martin shook his head slowly. "But not because of Jack or anything he's done. It's because of me. This is all because of me. Jack's going to lose his job and it's all my fault."

"Whoa. Back up a second, Martin. First off, I was just saying that about your dad to get to you because I was frustrated about the investigation and how things were going with Spaulding's trial. I didn't mean it." Okay, so he meant some of it, he'd been pissed off at Martin for saying that he was partially to blame for the way the Spaulding trial was going, but right then he'd even lie and say he was really Chinese and not Cuban if it would take that look out of Martin's eyes.

"I went to see my father," Martin said, his voice now sounding as tired as he looked, and Danny had the feeling that Martin had driven to D.C. and back, which explained the exhaustion.

"Sit down," Danny said, and he took Martin by the arm and led him to the couch, pushing him down onto the cushions. "So what? A phone call wouldn't have worked?"

"He's been avoiding my calls ever since this OPR thing began," Martin said. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "The Saudi's have been putting pressure on the State Department over the death of Anwar Samir. The State Department, in turn, has been putting pressure on the DoJ to punish the person they feel is mostly to blame for Samir's death, which is me. Dad doesn't like Jack all that much, so it was pretty easy for him to have the OPR be led in Jack's direction and leave me alone. He can't have his good name dragged through the mud, even if I am the one responsible for Samir being dead."

Martin looked up at Danny, his eyes full of despair. "You were right about all of it, Danny. I can get away with doing anything and everything, just because of who my father is. This…being an FBI Agent, was all a big mistake. He tried to tell me that the very first time I told him that I wanted to be an FBI Agent. He, both of my parents, really, had other plans for my life, and being in the Bureau wasn't one of them. Ever since I was accepted, he's done all he can to either pave the way for me and keep me safe, or try to make things uncomfortable enough that I'd quit." Martin looked down at the floor. "Maybe he was right, and I should quit now, before I get another innocent person killed."

Shit, this was bad. They'd had some bad cases, and Martin always took the bad ones hard, even though he tried his best to not let it show. But, Danny could always see when Martin was hurting, no matter how hard the other man tried to pretend that everything was okay, or that yes, it hurt, but not all that much. Danny hadn't been there when Samir had been taken out by the sniper, on Jack's order, no less. But he'd gotten there in time to see how devastated Martin had been because of it. Danny had read over all the reports on the case, and he'd come to the same conclusion that Jack had seemed to reach. Even if they hadn't suspected Samir of being a terrorist, the man's actions would have led to the same fate. Samir hadn't known that they were looking for him, he hadn't known what they had suspected, and he'd still killed his friend, still held Martin and his ex-girlfriend at gun-point. By yelling that there was a bomb in that dormitory, and wildly waving the gun around, Samir had turned himself into a potential danger. If anyone other than Anwar Samir was responsible for his death, Danny would say that it would be Samir's supposed friend, the one who had made the bomb and put it in the dorm in the first place.

The problem as Danny saw it, was that Martin wasn't quite ready to see the truth. He was still blaming himself, and this investigation wasn't doing anything to help Martin finally get that he wasn't the one to blame for Samir being dead. Danny knew that he could talk until he was blue in the face, and right now, it would just go right past Martin. The stubbornness that often helped Martin when it came to a case was working against him as far as the blame game was going, and Danny knew that he wouldn't get past that stubbornness right now. There was, however, another tactic that he could use.

"Farrell never asked me about the Samir case." Danny sat down beside Martin. "He was fishing for things to use against Jack, pure and simple. The State Department and all the rest can believe what they want, but the truth is that Victor's just using this as an excuse to go after Jack. You just happen to be the pawn in this game, Martin, not the catalyst."

Martin turned his head to look at him, and Danny thought he saw a glimmer of hope in the other's eyes. "I wish I could believe that, Danny, I really do. But you weren't there when Dad was telling me about this. And now with the Spaulding trial on top of everything else…everyone in that courtroom thinks that I perjured myself today, Danny. I didn't, but that's only because Jack never told me that Spaulding had asked for a lawyer. And, not that it matters, but if I would have known about that, and that Jack had hid it, then I really would have lied. I was just never given the choice. Jack did the same thing that my Dad keeps doing; making decisions for me because they think that they're protecting me."

Martin smiled slightly, "My Dad was a good Agent, Danny. I grew up watching him do his job, and I saw how he felt when his cases were over. The sense of well being you get when you put the bad guy away, the rush. The certainty that on that night at least, there would be one less criminal out there hurting someone. I wanted to be one of the good guys because my Dad was one of the good guys, and so were the people he worked with. But I also saw the other side. Dad followed the rules, and sometimes those rules meant that the criminals got away. I also noticed that some of Dad's co-workers didn't always follow the rules, and they got the bad guys off the streets. I can remember hearing Dad commenting on that, on how the others had broken the rules, thinking that they could just take the law into their own hands and get away with it. But, I also remember hearing him telling my mother just how relieved he was when some of those bad guys were finally behind bars. He couldn't or wouldn't cross that line, but he didn't necessarily fault those who do."

"And Jack crosses that line," Danny said.

Martin nodded. "Not just Jack. You crossed the line when you went into Spaulding's basement. And I would have willingly crossed the line and lied on the stand if I'd have known that Jack had ignored Spaulding's request." Martin shifted in his seat, "Andy Deaver is alive because Jack ignored that request, and I'd have lied a million times over if it meant saving that kid."

"You care, Martin. And you're a good Agent. You can't let your Dad get to you, not when you make a difference out there. Quitting will be the worst mistake you ever make."

Martin snorted. "Hell, if the State Department has their way, I'll be fired in a few days. Dad wouldn't like that mark against the family name." 

"Maybe a black mark or two against the family name is just what your Dad needs so that he can remember that the world is populated by human beings. Sometimes those humans can be monsters in disguise, Martin. And it's up to us to find them and stop them."

Martin smiled, and Danny was pleased to see that it reached Martin's eyes and was genuine, and not pretend. "You might have a point there." 

Martin got to his feet. "I'm sorry that I came by so late, but…"

Danny also stood, "Don't worry about it. I was still up."

They headed toward the door. "Just keep one thing in mind about Jack. He won't leave you dangling in the wind, Martin. The same protectiveness that kept him from telling you about Spaulding's request is also going to keep you from going down for perjury. Jack won't let you take the blame for something he did."

Martin nodded. "I know. And that's what makes it so damn hard to have to stand by while he's forced to take the blame for what I did. I can't deny that I deserve to be punished for what I did, Danny, but Jack shouldn't have to pay for that, too."

Danny had tried once more to reassure Martin, but as he shut and locked the door after Martin had left, Danny didn't think that he'd made much progress. If only he'd kept his mouth shut earlier, and not said those things about Victor and Martin getting a free ride. His words had driven Martin to make that trip to D.C., and the result was that Martin seemed to be heading into a depression of sorts. Danny could only hope that things with the OPR investigation would come to a quick closure so that they could all get on with their jobs. He just prayed that Martin would be able to put all this behind him, and that he wouldn't give in to the feelings that were plaguing him and quit just because it seemed to be what Victor Fitzgerald wanted. Danny had the sneaking suspicion that if that ever happened, then it would be the end of Martin.

Danny really needed a drink right then. A couple of them, actually, so that he wouldn't keep seeing that bleak look in Martin's eyes. Danny flopped down on the couch firmly believing that only alcohol could hold back the guilt he was feeling. He reached for the phone, quickly dialing the number for his sponsor. There was no way that he was going to get through the night alone, and come morning, he'd make sure that Martin knew that he wasn't going to have to face any of this alone, either.

*******************************************************

 

By the time Danny ended the call to his sponsor, it was almost one in the morning. The call had been difficult in that Danny hadn't wanted to mention Martin. While his sponsor knew more about Danny's childhood and life than his own friends did, he did not know how Danny felt about Martin, and Danny wanted to keep it that way. But the talk was still good, and the craving for a stiff drink had faded to the normal dull ache that he dealt with everyday.

Danny went into the bathroom and got ready for bed, and tried to not feel disappointed that Martin wasn't yet back from the bar. Curious as to the bar's hours, Danny found the folder that detailed the hotel amenities. The bar closed at two, which meant that Martin would soon be back. Drunk, but at least he'd be safe in their room and getting some sleep. And then Danny noticed a notation beneath the hours, which stated that on Friday and Saturday nights, the bar was open until three. Danny frowned as he realized that if Martin was still drinking as of closing time, then they'd most likely let him stay until he finished his drink. In that case, Martin could be coming back right about the time that they needed to leave.

Danny threw the folder onto the desk, feeling disgusted with himself for letting Martin go downstairs. He could have stopped him, maybe even just asked him not to go, but he hadn't. 

"Good going, Taylor. Just one more example of how capable you are of royally screwing things up." Danny chided himself as he got under the covers. "And talking to yourself? Definitely not a good sign." He shut off the light and settled down against his pillow, hoping that he'd at least get some rest since he wasn't going to be able to sleep.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date originally published: April 15, 2009

The chirping from his cell phone pulled Danny from a deep sleep. Wiping at his eyes with one hand, he groped the nightstand with the other hand, trying to find the phone and stop that irritating noise. He'd set his alarm for three, figuring that they'd need thirty minutes to shower, get dressed and pack. Those two hours of sleep, while deep, had not been enough, Danny thought as his hand made contact with the phone, and he fumbled it off. Tossing off the covers, he let the cool air of the room waft over him, knowing that if he stayed warm and cozy, he'd fall back asleep and risk running late. Blowing out a breath, Danny sat up and switched on the lamp that was situated between the beds, frowning when he saw that the other bed had not been slept in. Three a.m. and Martin wasn't back from the bar.

"Great," Danny muttered as he got to his feet. "Fucking great. I'll probably have to drag him out of the bar and to the airport." It was not going to be fun, having to lug around a drunken Martin, and Danny felt a flash of remorse for all of the times his friends had had to herd him in one direction or another, or get him home safely. Those days were long gone, and Danny hoped to keep them that way. He also hoped that this drinking binge of Martin's wasn't a sign of something more serious to come.

Well, at least Danny could do things now to make things easier for the day. He grabbed Martin's bag from the closet and began to pack it, even remembering to pack up Martin's kit in the bathroom and getting it in there. He then laid out Martin's suit and shoes, including what he figured were clean socks, since they were still folded. Martin usually just tossed his dirty socks in the drawer, leaving them loose so that he'd know what to wash and what to wear. Danny wasn't so lucky when it came to trying to figure out which undershirt was clean. Martin's most recent raid on his drawer had disturbed a lot of the clothing, and Danny had no idea which items of underwear were clean. And he sure as Hell wasn't going to sniff any of them to find out! It was one thing to use his nose to tell if his own clothes were clean or dirty, and quite another to go around smelling Martin's things, even if he did like the way Martin smelled.

Danny also made sure that the tie, shirt and suit matched, not that Martin would be sober enough to notice. Satisfied that he had as much of Martin's things settled as possible, Danny grabbed clean underwear for himself and went in to shower, planning to get Martin once he was dressed and packed. A quick trip down to the bar, then back to the room with Martin to get Martin dressed and retrieve their bags, and they'd be ready to check out.

Danny showered quickly, and was dried off and into his clean boxers and undershirt in good time. He shaved, brushed his teeth and packed his kit, then grabbed his dirty boxers and opened the door, only to come to a sudden stop as he found himself looking at Martin's naked back. Obviously, the noise from the shower had drowned out Martin's return to their room.

Danny's eyes traveled from Martin's bare shoulders to his bare waist and over what Danny thought had to be a perfect ass, naked as the rest of Martin. The fading welts that Danny had noticed on Martin's shoulders were matched by welts on Martin's buttocks and upper thighs, and Danny swallowed hard as his cock seemed to be in favor of the idea of putting Martin across his knees and spanking him. Good thing that it was his brain and not his little head that was in charge, Danny thought.

Danny cleared his throat, but Martin didn't seem to notice. Instead, the guy seemed intent on looking inside the closet. "Martin? Everything okay?"

Martin slowly shook his head as Danny peered over his shoulder. He wanted so badly to step up beside Martin, and see if his cock was as perfect as his ass, but Danny knew that was a bad idea, and was doing his best to keep away from temptation. Martin finally spoke, his voice not slurred at all, which was a surprise to Danny. 

"Someone stole my clothes, Danny."

Martin turned his head to look at him, and Danny could see tears pooling in his slightly unfocused eyes. Martin didn't sound drunk, but he definitely wasn't anywhere near sober, either. "Why would someone steal my clothes?"

"Nobody stole your clothes, Fitzie," Danny replied as he motioned toward the other bed. "I packed up your stuff and laid out your suit for you."

It took a few moments for Martin's eyes to track the direction in which Danny was pointing, but once they did, Martin grinned. "You packed for me?"

"Yeah. I figured it would save time. Now, go get dressed." Danny took a step back as Martin moved toward the bed, more than a bit unsteady. Glancing at the floor of the closet, Danny saw Martin's sweats, socks and running shoes, along with his wallet and room key. The guy had apparently walked into the room and stripped right there at the closet, either not caring that Danny was in the shower or maybe it had been a case of not noticing? Considering that Martin now stood at the foot of his bed, doing nothing except staring at his suit, Danny was willing to go with the idea that Martin hadn't noticed that Danny was in the bathroom.

Danny shoved his dirty clothes into his own bag and began to dress, hoping Martin would simply copy him. "Watch me, and do what I do."

Feeling Martin's eyes upon him, Danny pulled on his socks, balancing on one foot while pulling the other one on. A hard thump made Danny jerk his head in Martin's direction, and he saw that his partner was now on the floor, one leg bent at the knee with a sock half on it. "Right. Totally forgot that drunks have no balance," Danny muttered, shaking his head as he put on his other sock. 

"Just stay right there," Danny said, loud enough for Martin to hear, and he got a giggle in reply. It was odd to hear Martin giggling. Cute, but odd. His other sock now on, Danny turned to go to Martin's aid and saw that Martin was still in the exact same position. Of course, he'd told him to stay that way, and Martin had taken him literally. Danny also saw that he was right about Martin's cock. Even flaccid, it looked good. Danny then wished he'd turned on more lights in the room, because it looked as if Martin was shaved down there. Taking a step toward Martin, Danny's eyes grew wide as he saw that he wasn't imagining things. Martin was as bare as the day he was born, and damn, but that looked hot. Danny really wanted to run his tongue over Martin's skin, just to see if it felt as smooth as it looked. But even if he'd not made up his mind to stay away from Martin, Danny knew he couldn't do that while Martin was drunk. The poor guy couldn't even stay on his feet, and was most likely beyond the concepts of sex.

Biting back a whimper, Danny reached down, doing his best to ignore the bare skin around Martin's cock. "Grab my hand and I'll help you up."

"You told me to stay here." Martin grinned up at him.

"Well, now I'm telling you to grab my hand so I can help you up."

Martin's grin turned wicked as he licked his lips and looked up at Danny. "Thought you didn't want to have anything to do with getting me off."

"I said, up, not off." Danny wiggled his fingers impatiently. "Take my hand."

"Gotta get up before you can get off," Martin said. He let go of his sock, but instead of reaching up for Danny's hand, he reached down and began to fondle himself. "You don't wanna touch me, maybe you'd like to watch instead?"

So much for the idea that Martin was too drunk to handle the concept of sex, Danny thought. And why was it that Martin could be that drunk, yet still get a hard-on? From what Danny remembered of his drinking days, once he reached a certain point of inebriation, he became incapable of having sex, even if his mind wanted it. But, as in all other things, Martin apparently felt that he had to go that extra mile, and show Danny up. Granted, this seemed to be something else that Danny's own cock seemed to like, even as Danny was shaking his head and trying to tell his body that it just wasn't going to happen. "Not this morning, Martin. Take my hand so we can get you dressed. We've got a plane to catch."

"Can take another flight." That grin grew broader. "Chris liked to watch me play with myself. Sure you don't want to see what you're missing?"

Danny's eyes narrowed as Martin mentioned Larabee. If not for that, then Danny just might have given in. However, hearing Martin saying that man's name so casually just pissed Danny off, and that put an end to his erection in seconds. "I told you to take my hand, and I meant it," Danny said, his mouth tight as he tried to not yell at his partner. "You got to the count of five, and if you're not on your feet by then, then you're gonna regret it."

Martin's eyes had grown wide as Danny spoke, and the sight almost made Danny's anger fade. Almost, but not quite. "One…two…"

Martin's hand shot out and Danny grasped it, pulling Martin to his unsteady feet. "Sit." Danny directed even as he pushed Martin down onto the bed, his gaze firmly on Martin's foot and the sock that was only half on, and not on the smooth skin that surrounded Martin's cock. Kneeling, Danny managed to get the sock onto Martin's foot. As Danny reached up to the bed for the other sock, he caught a glimpse of Martin's face, and the sight of Martin looking on the verge of tears again put an end to Danny's anger. How could you stay angry at someone who looked so broken up over being spoken to harshly?

"Stick out your foot," Danny gently said. His irritation began to return though when the sock clad foot was stuck out toward him. "The other foot." Now he had both feet stuck out toward him, but seeing as one of them was the one Danny needed, he didn't say a word. He just put the sock on, then reached for Martin's pants. 

In his life, Danny had run into all kinds of drunks. There were those like his father, who were mean when sober, then got meaner while drinking. There were those who were nice when sober, but sons-of-bitches when drunk, and those who were mean when sober and nice as can be while drunk. There were those who were crybabies when drunk, and those who were nearly emotionless. There were those who took everything too seriously, and those who found just about everything funny. Danny had been a nasty drunk, not quite mean, but not nice, either. He definitely had an edge while drunk, and it was an edge that Danny didn't miss one bit. Danny had been out drinking with Martin and the others, but he'd never before been with Martin when he was this drunk, and he'd have never pegged Martin for being one of those who found everything funny. But the way Martin kept giggling as Danny began to pull the slacks up his legs was definitely a sign of an easily amused drunk.

Danny slowly got to his feet, his hands still on the waistband and his eyes firmly focused on Martin's face and not at all on his half-hard cock. How the man could get hard while drunk was beyond him. Then again, he had yet to get past being half-hard, so maybe Martin's body wasn't as immune to the numbing effects of alcohol as Danny had first suspected.

"On your feet, Martin. And then we'll be done with the pants."

Martin shook his head, then grinned again as he reached out for Danny's waist. Danny took a quick step back as he felt Martin's fingers brushing over the fabric of his boxers. "None of that right now, Fitzie. Right now we're getting you dressed, remember?"

"Can't get dressed," Martin firmly declared as he let his body flop down to the bed. "Someone stole my underwear."

Danny sighed, "Nobody stole your underwear. I didn't keep any out for you because I didn't know what ones were clean. And why am I trying to explain myself to a drunk?"

Martin raised his head and leered at him. "Maybe 'cause you like me? Especially with no underwear?" He grasped the base of his cock and held it steady, then began to wave it back and forth. Danny couldn't think of any one single fantasy that he'd had which starred Martin where Martin was doing something so childish with his own penis. Oh, he'd imagined Martin handling his own cock quite a few times, just never quite like this.

"You keep waving it around and it'll fall off," Danny automatically said, recalling his mother telling him that the one time she'd caught him doing the same thing while he was supposed to be taking a bath. The idea had scared him so much that he spent months afterward afraid that his cock would fall off if he even dared to hold it while peeing.

Martin stopped waving his penis around, but now he was looking down at himself intently, as if he were expecting it to fall off at any moment. Danny shook his head, "If we get your pants on, then that'll help keep it from falling off."

Martin looked up at Danny, a look of desperation in his eyes. "Promise?"

Danny nodded. "I promise you that if you put on your pants, your cock will not fall off." This was some cosmic karma kind of thing, Danny was sure of it. He'd put all of his friends through Hell when he was drinking, and now the universe was making him pay for it.

Martin sat up and then began to get to his feet, a task made a bit harder because Danny refused to let go of the slacks. Martin had to grab hold of both of Danny's shoulders in order to steady himself, but Danny didn't mind that so much. Now that Martin was upright, it took just a moment to pull the slacks up and button them. That would keep them in place while Danny got the shirt and tie on Martin, and God, that wasn't something he was looking forward to. Damn the Bureau and its rules about Agents wearing proper attire while traveling for a case! It would have been much easier to have gotten Martin back into his sweats for the journey home. 

Satisfied that the slacks were as secure as they could be for the moment, Danny raised his head to tell Martin to sit back down. He really should have known better, he thought, as he felt Martin's lips melting against his own. He'd known the kind of mood that Martin was in, and should have anticipated that Martin would try to kiss him if he got close enough. Normally, Danny wouldn't have minded the attempt, even with Martin's mouth tasting like whiskey. But with his own longings being held barely at bay, Danny couldn't stand the taste, and he found himself roughly grasping Martin's upper arms and pushing him away.

"No, Martin." Not the pouting again, Danny thought. And the tears were forming once more. "Lord, give me strength," Danny softly prayed. He pushed Martin down onto the bed so that he was seated once more, then reached for the shirt. "We need to get you dressed first."

Martin's eyebrows rose and the pout disappeared, quickly replaced by another wicked grin. "Most people do it the other way 'round, you know. Get undressed and then kiss."

"I'm not most people, Fitzie. You know me, I like to blaze my own trail and do things my own way."

"You can do me your own way anytime, Danny, you know that, don't you?" Martin reached out and grabbed one of Danny's wrists, holding him in place. The wicked grin was gone, replaced by a serious look. "Don't you?"

"Yeah, Martin. I know." And the knowing of it was going to kill him, Danny thought. "Now, let's get your shirt on. Stick out an arm for me."

Martin released Danny's wrist and held his arm out, but his eyes never left Danny's face. Danny tried his best to ignore the steady gaze as he got the shirt onto Martin and then buttoned. Despite having made that vow to himself, and being determined to not do anything to hurt Martin, Danny found himself wishing that he was a man of lesser will. It would be so easy to take what Martin was offering, so easy to accept the love and trust that Martin seemed to have for him and in him. But Danny knew that that trust was misplaced, because he couldn't trust himself around Martin.

Martin cooperated fully as Danny got the tie in place and knotted, and Danny found himself feeling very grateful for that. If Martin had made one more pass at him, or any more suggestions, then Danny didn't know if his will-power would be strong enough.

"Why don't you rest for a bit while I finish getting dressed?" Danny said as he smoothed the tie down. He figured that it would be easier to roll up Martin's belt and stick it in his coat pocket, and then Martin could put it on once they were past the security check-point in the airport. Danny didn't really want to deal with trying to get the belt off of Martin with other people standing around and watching. It was probably going to be enough of an ordeal to get it on him, but Danny was hoping that Martin would either be heading toward sober and able to put on his own belt, or more of the alcohol would be in his system, making him easier to handle. He wished he knew just when Martin had taken his last drink, so he could get a handle on what to expect over the next hour or so. Danny knew he could ask, but he doubted if Martin had known the time, or if he had been checking his watch or a clock, wouldn't remember it now.

Martin let Danny push him backward on the bed, and Danny continued getting dressed. It was quiet over on Martin's side of the room, and Danny found himself hoping that Martin had gone to sleep. It would be easier to get Martin's shoes on him if he was sleeping, and Danny could probably get most of Martin's shirt tucked in as well. With Martin being frisky, Danny wasn't looking forward to tucking that shirt down the front of the man's slacks. He rolled his eyes, wondering how badly his life sucked when he was getting something he wanted; full reign inside of Martin Fitzgerald's pants. Only he couldn't take advantage of it. Not now, not ever. Yeah, life definitely sucked, Danny mused. 

Danny draped his own tie around his neck and started toward the dresser so he could get it knotted. But he found himself stopping as he saw that Martin was watching him, and had probably been watching him the whole time he'd been dressing. Danny probably wouldn't have been worried about that, except for the completely wicked smirk that was on Martin's face right then. Forget frisky, Martin was getting downright dangerous, and Danny silently vowed to never, ever let Martin near that much alcohol again. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the attitude, because he did. He just didn't like the idea of that attitude being there because Martin was drunk. Why the Hell hadn't Martin ever made passes at him before? Shit, why hadn't he ever made a pass at Martin before? Why had he been content to leave it at flirting and just allow himself to assume that Martin was straight?

"Danny…Danny…Danny…Danny…"

"I heard you the first three times, Martin." Danny tilted his head so that he could see Martin's reflection in the mirror. Martin had rolled to one side and had his head propped up on his hand, his gaze firmly on Danny's backside. And that damn smirk still on his face. Danny scowled as Martin didn't reply. Maybe the guy was zoning out? "Martin? You still there? Martin? Martin? Hey, Martin!"

"I heard you the first three times, Danny," Martin replied, sticking his tongue out.

Danny shook his head and looked at his own reflection. "I know that it could be worse, Lord, but is it really fair to give me a partner who turns into a five year old when he's drunk?" Danny softly asked. He finished with his tie and turned to look at Martin. "What do you want?"

"You." And then Martin's smirk disappeared, and when he spoke again, he didn't sound drunk at all. "But you don't want me. No…that's not right. You do want me, but you won't take me. I'm not good enough for you; too fucked up for you."

Danny felt like he was the worst kind of filth to ever breathe as he looked into Martin's eyes and saw the sadness and despair there. Danny walked over and sat down on the bed. Reaching out, he ran a finger down Martin's jaw, then lightly grasped the back of Martin's neck, savoring the warmth flowing from Martin's skin.

"You're not too fucked up for me, Martin. I'm the one who's too fucked up for you. We went over this back when you were sober, and I sure as Hell have no intention of trying to explain it again with you drunk. But, just know that it's not you."

Martin shook his head. "That's the code phrase when someone breaks up with you, isn't it? It's not you, it's me, no honest, it really is me. I never really believed it all the times I heard it, and I don't believe it now."

The few hours of sleep that Danny had managed to get were not enough to help him deal with Martin while the guy was like this. Danny pulled his hand away, "Fine. Believe what you want. You always do. We can talk about this again when you've sobered up, but not before."

Danny got to his feet and went to put on his shoes. "Do you think you can manage to get your own shoes on? Or do I need to do that for you, too?"

"I'm not a baby," Martin hotly replied as he sat up. He looked down at the floor, then at Danny, then back down at the floor. "Someone stole my shoes."

Danny sighed, thinking that he was using up his lifetime quota of sighs. "They're on the bed beside you."

"Why would my shoes be on the bed?" Martin asked as he looked over his shoulder and then turned slightly to grab his shoes. "I don't think the hotel is going to like it that my shoes were on the bed and getting the covers dirty."

"They'll wash the covers. Now, can you get them on, or are you just going to talk about them?" His own shoes on, Danny went to get his pockets and belt loaded with his various paraphernalia. He decided that he'd also take Martin's gun with him. No way was he going to let a drunk tote a gun onto the plane, even if the drunk was a Federal Agent.

"I can do it." Martin said, and Danny didn't need to look over at him to know that Martin was pouting. He smiled slightly, wishing he had a video camera as it would make excellent blackmail material. Hell, it would be fun to show it to Samantha and Viv. Well, everything except where Martin was talking about sex, and the parts where Martin was offering himself to Danny. He didn't want anyone else seeing that.

Slipping into his jacket, Danny went to pack up the last of Martin's clothes, and he put Martin's overnight bag beside his own. Looking over to check on Martin, Danny wasn't surprised to see that no progress had been made with the shoes. Martin had one of them in his lap and was apparently trying to untie it, only he'd gotten a bit carried away and had the shoe partially unlaced.

Twenty minutes later, Danny was behind the steering wheel of the rental car and headed for the airport. While Danny felt quite pleased with himself for keeping them on schedule, he was also feeling a bit worn out. He couldn't help but wonder if this was what it felt like to get an infant ready to travel, or even a small child. Danny thought about it for a bit, then decided that it was probably easier to travel with a baby or toddler, because they wouldn't have talked back the way Martin did. And a kid probably wouldn't squirm around so much, like the way Martin was doing now.

"What's wrong?" Danny asked, risking a sideways glance at his partner.

"Feels wrong," Martin replied and he pulled at the front of his pants. "Gone commando before, but it never felt like this. The pants are just all wrong."

"You'll get used to it by the time we get home. Hell, you and I both know that you're going to fall asleep before the plane reaches cruising altitude, so you won't notice it at all then."

The sound of Martin blowing him a raspberry was the only response, and Danny grinned. Yeah, a camera would have been really handy, he thought. A tape of this morning would be just the thing to bring out during those times when Martin was coming across as all-Fitzgerald. Although, knowing Martin, Danny was pretty sure that he'd try to claim that he knew he was being filmed and did it all on purpose, as a joke. And while it was true that Martin couldn't lie worth a damn, it was also true that it was often difficult to tell when Martin was joking and when he was serious about something.

It didn't take long to drop off the rental car, and they were lucky in that the shuttle bus that would take them to the airport was already there and waiting for more passengers to arrive. Danny handed off their bags, then got Martin settled inside, smiling a good morning to the older couple who were already on board.

The woman smiled at both him and Martin, and being nice, asked how they were doing. Danny gave some non-committal answer, and then wanted to sink through the floor of the shuttle as Martin calmly informed the woman and her husband that his morning would have been a lot better if someone hadn't stolen his underwear and then Danny made him put on his pants without them. As the woman tried to not blush as she looked way, Martin went on to explain how the fabric of his pants was chafing him, and not at all comfortable, then he thanked her for asking.

At that point, Danny wasn't sure who was the most embarrassed; the woman, her husband or boyfriend, or himself. Martin sure as Hell wasn't embarrassed, and the driver had been lucky enough to be outside when Martin had given his answer. Lucky man, Danny thought.

Danny sent an apologetic look at the other couple. "He's been drinking all night, and I don't think he knows what he's saying."

"Yes, I do," Martin said. "Drunk or not, I know when my pants chafe me, Danny."

"Ah, well, I can understand that," the woman said, blithely ignoring Martin. "My husband can be quite a handful when he's had a bit too much, too."

"I am not," the man in question replied, setting in motion an argument that lasted all the way to the airport.

On one hand, Danny felt badly about Martin's comments causing the couple to get into such a long-winded argument, but on the other hand, they were so busy arguing that Martin never had another chance to say anything, and Danny was grateful for that. He was even more relieved to reach the airport and see that the couple was taking a different airline.

As Danny guided Martin toward the ticket counter, he moved in closely. "From now on, do not talk about your underwear or that your pants are chafing you. Understand?"

Martin came to a stop and looked at Danny, a hurt look in his eyes. "But, Danny, it *hurts*. And if someone asks me how I am, I should be truthful and tell them that it hurts, shouldn't I? It's not nice to lie."

"And it's not nice to make other people uncomfortable with your replies, right? I'm sure that your mother told you all about that, didn't she?"

Martin looked confused. "About lying to people when they ask how you are or about having pants chafing?"

Danny bit back the urge to sigh. He'd never met Martin's mother, but he had a feeling that the woman had never dealt with chafing pants, and if by chance she ever did, she wouldn't talk about it. "I think we both know that when someone asks you how you're doing, they're just asking to be polite. They don't really want to know the answer."

"So you want me to lie when someone asks me how I am, and tell them that I'm okay and doing fine, even though I could scream because my crotch is about to itch me to death where the pants are touching it?"

Ignoring the stares from those standing nearby, Danny nodded. "That's it exactly. Now, come on and let's get our tickets and get through security. Then we can find some coffee and have some time to relax before our flight."

"Don't they have bars upstairs?" Martin looked toward the escalator, a hopeful look on his face.

"Yes, but I don't think they're open yet." Danny had a sneaking suspicion that they never closed, but he had no intention of letting Martin get inside any of them. "What we both need is coffee, and lots of it."

They went on and joined the line, and a few minutes later were on their way upstairs. Danny was pleased with the seats they'd been assigned. Martin had a window seat, and Danny was in the seat next to him, with someone else getting the aisle seat. Even though this was a larger plane than the one they'd taken to Denver, the ticket agent had informed him that the flight was full. Danny hoped that Martin was sober and in a decent mood by the time their flight landed, because he wasn't looking forward on hauling a still drunk Martin into work and then have to explain to Jack why Martin was in that condition.

Even though they'd made good time in getting to the airport, there was still a line at security, and Danny held his breath as Martin put his bag on the conveyor belt. Danny wanted to send Martin through first, in case there was a problem. The TSA personnel would most likely back down from anything once Danny showed them his badge, but he was hoping to avoid letting everyone else in line know that there would be two Federal Agents on the plane. It was going to be tricky enough to get their guns through security without arousing some interest from the other travelers.

Martin paused as he was about to step through the metal detector, patting himself down. Danny had earlier grabbed Martin's belt and stuck it in a side pocket of his bag, not wanting that to set off the alarm, but Martin had seen him doing that, and wouldn't be looking for the belt.

Martin turned to look at Danny, panic in his eyes. "It's gone, Danny. I've lost my gun. You've still got yours, right? Please tell me that you've got yours. We can't get on the plane without our guns!"


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date originally published: April 16, 2009

An hour and forty-five minutes later, Danny and Martin were allowed out of the security office. Despite all of Danny's talking and badge flashing, it had been the phone call to Victor that had done the job of getting them out of there in time to catch their plane. After Martin's panicked announcement that he'd lost his gun and wanting to know if Danny still had his, the TSA Agents had sprung into action. Danny never had a chance to show his badge before he was pushed up against the wall and frisked, then handcuffed and led away. Of course, the couple from the shuttle bus had been in line behind them, and Danny could hear the woman loudly telling her husband that she had known there was something off about him and Martin, and it didn't surprise her at all to discover that they were terrorists. Right, because terrorists always complained about their pants chafing them because they were going commando.

Danny had found some justice in that Martin had also been pushed up against the wall and frisked, and the TSA Agents had not found it amusing when he giggled the entire time, or when he asked if there was going to be a strip search, and if so, then could they let him get some underwear out of his bag afterward? Oh, yeah, they had taken that part really well, Danny thought as he watched the security officer put the cuffs on Martin a little tighter than they needed to be.

Danny did take some comfort in the looks on all of their faces after Martin had called his father. Victor had turned around and called someone else, someone up the food chain for TSA, and that person had quickly called Denver. The handcuffs were quickly removed, and ice was even found for Martin to put on his wrists to ease the bruising. Apologies had been made, and the Agents had even repacked their bags for them, folding each and every piece of clothing carefully. It was good to have a partner whose father had enough power to get this kind of reaction. It almost made up for the fact that that same partner was the one who'd gotten them into the mess in the first place.

Danny smiled slightly as he remembered the sound of Victor's voice when Martin had handed the phone to him. The elder Mr. Fitzgerald asked if Martin was as drunk as he sounded, and Danny didn't waste any time assuring the man that Martin was probably more drunk than he thought. Oh, Martin would make him pay for that once he was sober and had heard from his father, but it was worth it. Not only was Martin in trouble for getting himself in trouble, but since he was doing it on FBI time, he was also in trouble for tarnishing the image of the Bureau. Danny didn't think that there would be any official punishment coming Martin's way, but he was pretty sure that Victor would make life Hell for Martin for a few weeks, at the least.

Of course, there was now no time for coffee, but Danny knew he'd be able to get some on the plane. And some for Martin, too. Hell, at this point, he'd pour it directly down his partner's throat if necessary, because there was no way that he was going to risk being held by security before they could get out of LaGuardia. And there was also no way that he was going to spend this flight listening to Martin complaining about how he wasn't allowed to put his underwear on, even though there had been a strip search and they'd unpacked his bag. Danny had tried to explain to Martin that having his shirt pulled out from his pants wasn't a strip search, but Martin seemed to have other ideas about that.

As he got Martin onto the plane, Danny reflected that Martin should be happy that there wasn't a strip search. God only knew how he'd explain Martin's shaved state, provided Martin didn't jump in with his own version of how he'd been shaved, or of the week he'd spent with Larabee. Nope, Martin might be too drunk to realize that he'd been lucky, but Danny was more than willing to thank God for the both of them over that little mercy.

The passengers had already started to get on the plane by the time he and Martin had reached their gate. With it being so early in the morning, many of the passengers seemed intent on getting more sleep, and Danny was lucky that he found one blanket for Martin. As for a pillow? He couldn't find a single one. 

Martin had quieted down once they entered the plane, and as Danny secured Martin's seatbelt, he found himself glad of that. He was hoping that Martin would soon fall asleep, and then sleep the entire flight. Hell, he would even forego giving Martin coffee if the guy was sleeping off the alcohol.

As Danny placed the blanket over Martin, he was treated to one of Martin's smiles. "Thanks, Danny. I never worry about getting cold when I fly with you."

Danny smiled back. "You're welcome. And I can't risk you catching a cold or something, so keeping you warm isn't that big a deal. Once we're in the air, I'll get you some coffee and warm you up a bit more."

"And Jack."

It was Danny's turn to be confused. "And Jack?"

Martin nodded. "He keeps me warm, too. One time he even took off his coat and put it over me." 

While Danny thought that was nice of Jack, he didn't like the way Martin was eying his jacket, as if he was expecting Danny to offer it to him. "Right. Guess the old man can surprise us sometimes, huh?"

"Yeah. But he wouldn't have packed my underwear and made me go without any," Martin said, and that damn pout was back.

"He also wouldn't have dressed your ass, so count your blessings that you were with me and not him this morning."

"Is he your boyfriend?" A young voice came from Danny's right, and he turned in his seat to see that they were sharing the row with a little girl who looked to be all of ten years old.

"He doesn't want me," Martin said. "He takes care of me, but doesn't want me."

Danny didn't have to turn around to know that Martin was still pouting. Ignoring Martin's comment, Danny smiled at the little girl. "You should just ignore him. He's not feeling very well right now."

"Is he drunk? He looks drunk. My Daddy's eyes look like that when he's had too much to drink, and then he and Mommy argue a bit, and then they send me to my room and start giggling. I think they go to make out then, don't you? I mean, why else send me to my room unless they're doing it?"

Definitely some kind of cosmic karma coming back on him, Danny thought. There was no other way to explain why he should be stuck on a plane between his drunk, yet cute partner and a precocious little girl who didn't seem to have an off button.

Danny leaned forward to look around the little girl, hoping to catch a glimpse of her parents. He knew that if he had a kid and was separated from him or her on the plane, then he'd be craning his neck to keep the child in sight. However, the other passengers all seemed to be intent on getting ready for the flight, and not at all interested in the little girl.

"Where are your parents?" Danny asked as he did his best to ignore her earlier questions about Martin and what her parents did to make up after arguing.

"Home," the little girl replied. "I was out here visiting my Grandma, and now I'm going home. Mommy said that I'm big enough now to be able to fly alone, although the airline people keep an eye on me. You should put your seatbelt on, it's the rules." The little girl looked from Danny's waist to his face, her gaze intense.

"I was just about to do that. Is your seatbelt on the right way?" Danny asked as he secured his own belt.

The little girl nodded. "I've flown enough to know how to put it on. Were you visiting relatives here or were you on vacation?"

The little girl was definitely nosy, but in a way it beat trying to have a conversation with Martin right then. "It was business," Danny replied. 

The little girl nodded. "My Daddy travels a lot on business. Mommy says it's too much, and that he's probably getting a little on the side, and then they argue. Do you get any on the side when you travel?"

Danny should have gotten some, he thought. Would have, if not for his own insecurities and fears. And not 'on the side', either, but the real and honest thing. Even if he thought the little girl had any clue about what she was talking about, Danny had no intention of answering her. He wasn't going to discuss his sex life, or lack thereof, with a child.

"He's too scared to try anything like that," Martin said, and Danny bit back a groan of despair as he saw that Martin was awake. The guy had been quiet over in his seat, and Danny had thought that he'd already fallen asleep. "Says he loves me, though, but then is too scared to do anything about it."

The little girl nodded solemnly, her eyes now holding pity in them as she looked at Danny. Damn Martin, anyway, Danny thought. The guy was supposed to be asleep and not revealing his secrets to the whole damn plane!

The little girl tugged on Danny's sleeve and he looked down at her, wondering what new nosy question she was about to drop on him. "Mommy says that it's always best to just face your fears. She says that it's gonna be hard, and it's okay to be scared, but if you just face up to them, then you'll get over them. And even if you don't get over them, then they won't be as scary the next time."

Wow, Danny thought. That was some pretty deep advice from a little kid, and he smiled at that. "I think that your Mommy's right. You should listen to her. So, I'm Danny and that's Martin. What's your name?"

The little girl folded her hands in her lap. "Can't tell you. Mommy says to never talk to strangers, and you're a stranger."

Danny ignored the snort that came from Martin's direction, and instead tried to focus on the good part of what the little girl was now saying. He should have a quiet flight now that the child had remembered not to talk to strangers. Smiling, Danny rested his head against the back of his seat, for once looking forward to not talking on a plane ride.

"Do you think we'll get breakfast?" Martin asked. "I'm starving."

Danny grinned, "You're always starving. But yeah, I'm pretty sure that they'll give us breakfast. It might be made of cardboard, but it'll be something."

The plane began to leave the gate, and Danny's seatmates grew quiet as the flight attendant went over the safety instructions. Danny thought it was a waste of time for her to explain to them how to use their seats as flotation devices, since the plane wouldn't be going over any water until it reached New York. Still, Danny tried to not think too hard about needing a flotation device, since that would mean that the plane had crashed, and he really didn't want to think about their plane crashing. Martin started to talk about breakfast again, and the little girl joined in, leaning over Danny a bit as she told Martin just how hungry she was.

The plane had been airborne for just a few minutes when the little girl asked Danny if he could reach her bag, which had been placed under the seat in front of her. Undoing his seatbelt, Danny retrieved it for her, and then smiled indulgently when she opened it and began to pull out dolls.

His indulgent smile faded though, she shoved a male doll at him. "We can play house while they're getting our breakfast ready. You be the Daddy, and I'll play the Mommy."

Danny ignored Martin's giggle as he 'walked' the male doll toward the little girl. "Good morning, dear. Is breakfast ready?"

The little girl sighed. "You're doing it wrong. The Daddy is supposed to kiss the Mommy first, and then ask about breakfast. Try again."

"Yeah, Daddy. Try again," Martin urged.

"You think it's so easy, you be the Daddy." Danny shoved the doll at Martin, who grinned as he took it. His grin grew a bit wicked though as he 'walked' the doll over Danny's lap, and then had to lean over Danny in order to interact with the girl. Danny could understand Martin needing to lean over, but he wasn't so sure that Martin needed to lean over quite as much as he was doing, and he sure as Hell didn't think that Martin needed to place his hand that high on Danny's thigh. It wasn't as if the guy was in any danger from toppling over. And even if he did somehow lose his balance, the seats were so closely packed together that Martin would never hit the floor, he'd just land on Danny's legs.

"Good morning, honey," Martin said as he inclined the doll toward the blonde haired doll that the girl held. "You look beautiful this morning." Martin then made a silly smooching sound as he pushed the head of the doll against the head of the other doll. This apparently was a satisfactory kiss, because the girl giggled, thanked him and went on to tell him to set the table because breakfast would be ready soon.

"You call that a kiss?" Danny teased, keeping his voice low since Martin's ear was so close and he didn't want to deafen the man.

Martin turned his head, "Oh, that's a good doll kiss, or at least that's what my nieces tell me. My kisses are much, much better than that, remember? That's something you could enjoy every day, if only you'd reconsider this whole stand-offish thing you've gotten yourself believing."

"Martin!" Danny couldn't believe that Martin would try to talk about that on the plane, especially with a child sitting right there, sober or drunk.

Martin's grin grew broader, and Danny would have sworn that the man was going to blurt out something that they'd both regret. Instead, the little girl interrupted them by telling Martin's doll that he could sit down now to eat. Martin returned his attention to the game, but he did give Danny's thigh a firm squeeze.

The little girl, who finally told Martin that her name was Allie, but who still refused to tell Danny her name, what with them being strangers and all, kept Martin busy until the flight attendant came around with breakfast for them. They'd had the choice of eggs or pancakes, and all three of them had chosen the pancakes. Allie had milk and juice, he and Martin had coffee and juice, and Danny planned to ask the flight attendant for more coffee for Martin. He wasn't sure if Martin was as drunk as before, or if more alcohol was now in his bloodstream. It was pretty difficult to gauge the sobriety of someone whose entire actions for the past thirty minutes had been centered around playing dolls with a child. Not that Martin talked down to Allie, far from it. It was just that the subject matter wasn't all that adult, and didn't require a lot of thought. Then again, Danny apparently had no skills when it came to playing dolls, so what did he know? Maybe Martin was having to put a lot of thought into having his Daddy doll volunteer to cook so the Mommy doll could relax for a change. The main thing was that Martin was so busy playing with Allie that he didn't have time to make barbed remarks to Danny about his decision to not pursue a relationship. Of course, that was countered by the fact that Martin kept touching Danny the entire time he and Allie were playing, and the only thing that saved Danny from embarrassing himself was the fact that Martin's blanket had fallen down over Danny's groin when Martin had first leaned over him, so neither Martin nor Allie could see just how easy it was for Martin's touch to get him aroused.

As he ate, Danny couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. A quick glance to his left told him that Martin was intent on his pancakes, so it had to be Allie who was being so attentive. Danny turned his head slightly and was able to confirm that guess. Allie had quickly cut her pancakes into huge pieces, and was mindlessly shoving them into her mouth as she watched Danny.

"What?" Danny asked, feeling slightly amused at her attention. She'd all but ignored him so far, preferring Martin's company, so he wasn't sure if he should be honored or worried now that she was paying attention to him. "Do I have syrup on my face or something?"

Her mouth full of pancake, Allie slowly shook her head. She began to quickly chew, and after swallowing what was in her mouth, she grinned up at him. "I was thinking that now you've watched us play, you can play next, seeing as you know what to do know."

"Well, I am a fast learner," Danny replied.

"Oh, I could teach you all kinds of nice things," Martin said from his other side. Danny chose to ignore him, and kept his attention on Allie, hoping that she hadn't heard Martin's comment. After everything else that had happened that morning, Danny didn't want to get off of the plane in New York just to face accusations of corrupting a child!

Allie speared a syrup-heavy chunk of pancake and gestured toward Danny with it. "Just remember that kisses come first, and then you can ask about eating."

As Allie shoved the last of her breakfast into her mouth, Danny nodded. "I'll remember that. Kissing first, then eating."

And he'd just ignore the snicker that came from Martin's direction. "Yeah, you've definitely got *that* order down pat."

Danny turned his head to glare at Martin. "You hush! Allie doesn't need to be hearing things like that from you," Danny said, trying his best to keep his voice low enough so that the child couldn't overhear him.

Martin simply glared back. "I wouldn't need to say things like that if you were a sensible man, Danny Taylor. I love you and you say you love me, everything after that should be simple. I don't see why you have to make it so hard." Danny was slightly surprised that Martin had kept his voice down, but that surprise was quickly replaced by remorse as he watched Martin's glare turn to a gaze of sadness as the man spoke.

"Martin...we've been over this. I am not going to hurt you…"

"Says the man who is tearing my heart out and ripping it to shreds," Martin interrupted, his voice not so low this time.

His appetite suddenly gone, Danny carefully placed his fork on top of his plate, but his gaze remained on Martin. "I'm sorry. If I could find a way to not hurt you at all, Martin, then I'd take it. I don't like myself much for hurting you like this, but I'd hate myself if I hurt you even worse if I didn't do this now. It might not bring you a lot of comfort now, but this *is* for your own good as much as it is for mine."

"Bullshit!" That fire was back in Martin's eyes, and Danny sent up a mental 'thank-you' to God for that small favor. He could handle an angry Martin far easier than a sad and morose Martin. Especially when he knew that he was the cause of Martin's sorrow. "You're just taking the easy way out because you don't have enough balls to face your own demons and put them to rest."

For a moment, Danny began to once again wonder just how drunk Martin still was, but it quickly passed as the insult sunk into his brain. "Easy way out? You don't think that this is hurting me, too? I finally have the chance for love, have the chance to be with someone I care about, and you think it's easy for me to turn that away?" Danny shook his head, knowing that it was useless to be mad with a drunk, but unable to push that feeling aside.

Martin's eyebrows rose. "Looks easy from where I'm sittin'," he coldly replied.

"You know what? I think that we should just avoid talking to each other for the rest of this trip. If we don't, then we're going to end up saying things we don't mean." Danny didn't want to be angry with Martin, and he sure as Hell didn't want to get into an argument with him as they flew home. This was between them and no-one else, and while Danny didn't really care if the whole plane knew he liked being with other men, he didn't think that Martin, once sober, would appreciate knowing that they'd outted themselves during the flight.

"Sounds good to me," Martin quickly replied. "And as far as I'm concerned, we can just take separate cabs to the office, too. The less time that I have to spend with you, the better."

"Fine." Danny stared down at the rest of his pancakes, his appetite now gone as well.

"Good." Martin replied, and Danny could have sworn that he heard Allie snickering. Let her laugh it up, he thought, and see if I play house with her for the rest of the flight.

On his other side, Martin pulled the blanket up to his shoulders, leaned his head against the bulkhead of the plane and closed his eyes. Hopefully, the man was going to sleep and would be more himself once they touched down. Of course, Martin sleeping meant that Danny really would be stuck playing house with Allie, but Danny was pretty sure that he could handle that. She was just a kid, how hard could it be to keep her entertained?


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date originally published: April 16, 2009

By the time the pilot announced that they were approaching LaGuardia, Danny felt worn out. It was bad enough that he hadn't slept much the night before, but trying to keep up with Allie had been tiring. Even though they'd both been in their seats for most of the time, playing with her toys, Danny felt as if he'd run a marathon. Then there'd been the three times he'd had to escort Allie down the aisle to the lavatory, an act that had all of the flight attendants alternating between watching him like a hawk and giving him looks that showed just how adorable they thought he was being. Hell, there was nothing adorable about it. It was either get up and hold Allie's hand the entire way or have her asking over and over if he'd go with her, her voice getting louder with each repetition. Danny had been afraid that Allie's voice would awaken Martin, and he didn't want that. It wasn't so much that he thought Martin needed the sleep, even though he did. It was that Danny wasn't up to handling both Martin and Allie at the same time. Not that he'd admit that to anyone else. Hell, he'd never hear the end of it from Viv if she knew that he'd been defeated by a little girl, although she probably would be understanding about him not wanting to deal with Martin.

Deciding to honor the adage to 'let sleeping dogs lie', Danny decided that he'd let Martin sleep until the plane came to a full stop at the terminal. He made sure that Martin's seat was upright, and his seatbelt secure, and then turned his attention to surviving the landing. Danny knew his statistics, and that most accidents happened during take-offs and landings. They'd survived the take-off from Denver, but weren't home-free yet. He wouldn't feel safe until the flight attendant opened that door at the ramp and people started to leave the plane.

The flight attendants walked down the aisle to make sure that the overhead bins were securely closed and people were safely belted into their seats. One of them paused at their row, to tell both Danny and Allie that she'd be escorting Allie off of the plane after the rest of the passengers had deplaned. Motioning toward Martin, who was still sleeping, Danny had assured the woman that he'd be there until then as well, and that Allie wouldn't be alone. The flight attendant nodded and thanked him, then continued on her way. As they felt the plane begin to descend, Allie reached for Danny's hand, a worried look on her young face.

"I don't like it when they land," she admitted in a near whisper.

Danny gave her hand a squeeze and smiled. "Me, either. But, I'm sure the pilot has landed many, many planes, and he'll land this one safely, too."

Allie squeezed his hand in reply, with a small smile on her face this time, and the two continued to hold hands as the plane landed and up to the moment that it came to a stop at the gate.

As soon as Allie released his hand, Danny turned toward his partner. Martin was still sleeping soundly, and Danny wondered just what kind of a mood Martin would be in once he was awake. He released his seatbelt, then carefully removed Martin's blanket and undid Martin's. People were already in the aisles, getting their bags and other belongings from the overhead bins, and beside him, Allie was sitting quietly, her bag held securely in her lap.

Danny gave Martin's shoulder a slight push. "Martin? We're home, time to wake up."

No response, but then again, Danny hadn't expected to get one on his first try. Danny had noticed on other overnight trips that Martin was the one who preferred to linger in bed after the alarm had gone off, letting Danny shower first just so he could get more sleep. The thought came that if Danny wasn't so stubborn, then he and Martin could spend many mornings either sleeping in together, sharing a shower, or both. Danny gave his head a slight shake. It was hard enough resisting Martin, he didn't need a part of his sub-conscious trying to derail his plans, too.

A harder push, one that actually moved Martin's body a bit, and this earned Danny a slight moaning sound, and a movement of Martin's head before the man settled back against the side of the plane. "Nope, no more sleep, Fitzie. It's time to wake up."

Allie giggled from Danny's other side, and Danny turned his head to grin at her. "It's like trying to wake a bear up in winter," he said, making her giggle a bit more.

"Mommy tickles me," Allie confided, and Danny considered that for a moment. Martin Fitzgerald ticklish? It would be fun to find out. Danny nodded. "I'll try that. Thank you."

With Allie looking on, all giggles as if she was the one being tickled, Danny began his subtle assault upon Martin. He first ran his finger lightly under Martin's jaw, but that only got Martin to move his head a bit. Danny then moved his hand lower, lightly tickling Martin's side, and this got more of a reaction, with Martin moving fully in his seat. Unfortunately for Danny's plans, Martin moved to face the window, and while that gave Danny a great view of Martin's ass, it really wasn't someplace he was going to try to tickle while he had a pint-sized audience.

The plane had been emptying while Danny had been busy, and he had once more tried to shake Martin's shoulder to get him awake when the flight attendant came for Allie. The woman laughed lightly at Danny's predicament, but didn't offer to help. Danny wasn't sure if he was glad of that or not. He said goodbye to Allie and moved out of the row when Allie insisted that she had to be the one to hug Martin goodbye.

Danny shared a smile with the flight attendant as Allie crawled into Danny's seat and then wrapped her arms around Martin from behind, giving him the biggest hug that someone her size could manage. Danny even heard the loud smack of a kiss, and then damn if he didn't hear Martin's voice murmuring a goodbye to Allie.

Allie scrambled down from Danny's seat and stepped into the aisle, beaming up at Danny. "All he needed was a kiss, just like the sleeping princess," she declared.

"I think he needed a kiss from you," Danny said, giving her a wink. "He'd have probably knocked me out if I tried to kiss him."

Allie frowned slightly and shook her head. "You really need to stop being denially and notice what's right there in front of you." 

Danny and the flight attendant exchanged amused glances at that declaration, shrugging as if it were normal to expect kids to say the oddest things. Inside though, Danny knew that Allie was right on target. He'd been in denial for so long about Martin, and had wasted so much time. If he'd have admitted his feelings to Martin sooner, then maybe they would have had a chance as a couple.

By the time the flight attendant had left with Allie, Martin was on his feet. He looked a bit unsteady, but Danny knew better than to even think about reaching out to help the man. Instead, he reached up into the overhead bin and got out both of their bags, handing off one to Martin, who took it without a word. And that's when Danny remembered that they weren't talking to one another. 

"You going to ignore me all the way back to the office?" Danny asked as they exited the plane.

Martin's answer was a blurry-eyed glare, and Danny didn't have to think too hard to know that that was a definite 'yes'. They walked in silence toward the main terminal, with Danny wondering if they'd really end up taking separate cabs to the Federal Building, or if Martin would share one with him.

Danny got his answer when Martin suddenly stopped. "Shit." Martin's voice wasn't loud enough for others to hear, but Danny had been walking as close to Martin as he felt safe, and so he'd heard it. He looked up and followed Martin's line of vision to where Jack stood, arms crossed and an impatient look on his face.

"You said it, partner," Danny agreed. "Guess Victor must have called him, too."

Martin looked puzzled at that, and he turned his head to look questioningly at Danny, although he still didn't say anything.

"You don't remember calling your dad from Denver? When we were detained by security and you finally got fed up with it and called in the reinforcements?"

Martin slowly shook his head, and Danny sighed. If Martin really didn't remember all of that, then that would leave it to him to explain things to Jack. It was a good thing he loved Martin, or else he'd have strangled the guy ages ago!

Jack took a step toward them. "I don't even want to hear about why it took the two of you so long to get off of the plane. I'm at a meter and don't want a parking ticket, so if you two clowns are ready, can we leave?"

"Sure, Jack." Danny nudged Martin forward, hoping that the guy was steadier on his feet now than he'd been so far. Or that if he wasn't, then Jack wouldn't notice.

They followed Jack out to his car, and stowed their bags in the trunk. Danny was more than willing to let Martin sit up front, but when Jack opened the back passenger door, he motioned for Martin to get in. Once Martin was seated, Jack shut the door and sent an intent look Danny's way. "So, just how drunk is he?"

Jack's voice wasn't angry, but it was clear to Danny that their boss wasn't happy with either him or Martin right then. "I'm not really sure," Danny admitted. "He slept for about half of the flight, but I have no idea just how much he drank before we left the hotel."

Jack shook his head and motioned for Danny to get into the car. Feeling as if he'd just been sent to be lectured by the principal, Danny got into the front passenger seat. He turned his head to make sure that Martin had put on his seatbelt and was doing okay, and then he put on his own seatbelt as Jack got into the car.

"I don't suppose that you'd be surprised to hear that I received a phone call from the Deputy Director this morning," Jack said as he pulled out into the lane of cars leaving the airport. "He was concerned because at least one of the agents from my office was inebriated and causing a scene of some sort at the Denver airport. Care to fill me in on what the Hell you were thinking?"

"It wasn't his fault." Danny said, and he turned to look at Martin as he heard Martin saying those words at the same time. 

"I'll handle this," Danny continued, and he ignored Martin's glare as he returned his attention back to Jack. "It wasn't Martin's fault. I had his gun and badge, and Martin didn't realize it until we were at the security check-point. Someone overheard him when he asked me about it, and the next thing we knew, security was involved. They wouldn't believe that we were FBI agents, and Martin finally got fed up with it and called his father. That must have worked, because not long after that, a call came in from someone higher up and they let us go." Danny knew he was glossing over some of the details, but he doubted if there was anyone who'd tell Jack exactly what had happened, and his version was close enough to the truth.

Jack looked up into the rear view mirror, and Danny knew that he was looking for Martin to confirm or deny what Danny had just said. In his current condition, Martin was bound to say anything that popped into head, and Danny figured that they were in enough trouble without Martin's mouth jumping into things.

"Look," Danny said, his voice as low as he could get it and still have Jack hear him. "Martin had a rough time of things, and he got pretty plastered last night. I think he's still a little drunk."

"Do you now?" Jack dryly replied as he glanced sideways at Danny. "That true, Martin? You went out and purposely got drunk last night?"

Danny looked back at Martin, sending him a glance that even a drunk man would interpret as 'keep your mouth shut'. However, as in most of the time when Danny gave the man that look, Martin ignored him.

Martin leaned forward as far as the seatbelt would allow and placed his hand on the back of Jack's seat. "Damn right I did. I just couldn't stay in our room any longer, well, I probably could have stayed there, but I would have been crazy by the time we left for the airport. And after everything else that had happened, having Danny freaking out because he didn't like it that I liked it when he bit me was a bit more than I could handle sober. If anyone had a right to get drunk, it was me. Trust me on that, Jack."

Oh, Martin did not just say that! Danny held back a moan as he quickly ran Martin's words back through his head and realized that, yes indeed, Martin did just tell Jack that he'd bitten him. "Really drunk," Danny said, hoping to keep Jack from asking Martin any more questions. "I was surprised he actually made it out of the bar."

Another quick glance from Jack. "You were with him but don't know how much he was drinking?"

Shit, he'd walked into that one, didn't he? "Martin went to the hotel bar alone. He knew when we needed to leave for the airport, and he was back to the room before then."

Martin's head moved forward a little bit, and Danny began to wonder if he'd undone his seatbelt. Worry about that went right out of the window when Martin spoke. "Someone stole my underwear, so Danny didn't put any on me."

Danny turned his head quickly, not wanting to see the look on Jack's face at hearing that. He watched as the streets of Queens went by, a silence descending in the car that he couldn't quite describe. And then he heard it, a soft sound at first, as if someone was choking, and then that choking grew louder and Jack began to laugh out loud.

"Believe me, it wasn't as funny as it sounds now," Danny said, but he still wouldn't look at Jack.

"Oh, it's not really all that funny right now," Jack replied. "You and I are going to have a long talk about what it means to look out for your partner when you're out of town on a case, but right now, we just need to get Fitzgerald home safely. In case you haven't noticed, given how you're giving Queens your full attention, your partner just slid down into the floor."

Danny turned in his seat and looked over the back of it to see that Martin was in the floor, just as Jack had said. Martin's head and most of his upper body was behind Jack's seat, and the rest of him was behind Danny.

Martin giggled and waved at Danny. "Jack takes those corners too fast."

Danny might have agreed with his partner about that, having ridden many times with Jack. However, seeing as how Jack hadn't turned and corners, he didn't think that his agreement would go over too well with the man. Danny grinned at Jack, then shook his head. "Just stay put, Martin. We're almost to your place."

"He better stay conscious," Jack said. "Because I have no intention of hauling his ass up those stairs. Why he couldn't get an apartment on one of the lower floors is beyond me."

"Not a vampire," Martin chimed in from his position on the floor.

"Do I want to know?" Jack asked, sounding a bit tired now.

"Not really," Danny assured him. He remembered making that comment once to Martin, about how vampires grabbed all of the lower levels for themselves.

"Less sunlight," Martin added, as if neither man had spoken. "And they get great rent control. You know, that thing about not dying and shit. That's what Danny said."

"I think it was more along the lines of them living to be a 106 years old, not about them not dying." Danny corrected. Martin might be drunk, but if he was going to be relaying their conversation to Jack, then Danny thought the details should be right, even if nothing else was.

"Why do you think they only live for 106 years?" Jack asked. "In almost every vampire myth, they tend to live forever once turned."

"Exactly." Martin said.

"I don't think Jack was talking to you," Danny said, "So you can keep your opinions to yourself."

"Along with my opinion that you're being pig-headed about that biting thing? Because you are, you know. It should be simple, shouldn't it, Jack? Danny tells me he loves me, I tell him I love him, and we're good to go. But noooooo, not with Mr. Taylor there. He freaks out and declares that we can't ever be together because he can't trust me. *Me*! He can't trust me!"

"We are *so* not having this conversation here," Danny declared, and he was relieved to see that they were now on Martin's street and would soon be at his apartment building.

"But *we'll* be talking later," Jack said, and this time he didn't even bother to glance Danny's way. But then, with the tone of Jack's voice, Danny knew that a glare wouldn't have added anything. He was in trouble and that was that. There was a fleeting thought that Jack was going to ignore Martin getting drunk on his ass and tear into him instead, letting Martin skate because he was the Deputy Director's son. Not a very nice thought, and one Danny discarded as quickly as it had arrived. He remembered Martin telling him that Jack knew about Larabee, so if Jack went easy on Martin it was because of the case and all of the tension surrounding it.

They rode in silence a bit longer and Danny felt a surge of relief as Jack pulled to a stop in front of Martin's building. A few minutes later and they were inside Martin's apartment, with Jack directing Danny to take Martin's bag into his bedroom while Jack steered Martin into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind them.

Not knowing what Jack had in mind, Danny lingered in Martin's bedroom. He'd never seen the room before, although the idea of the room had spent been in many of Danny's fantasies about Martin. And now he'd never spend time in it with Martin. Not that he'd be missing much, because Martin hadn't gone out of his way to decorate the room. It seemed stark compared to the rest of his apartment, holding just the bed, which was king-sized, a nightstand, a chest of drawers and a well-used chair between the bed and the door. The room had one window, with blinds and no curtain. The walls were the boring white that seemed to come with all rental properties. There were two lights, the overhead one and one that sat on the nightstand. The clock radio also was on the nightstand, and the top of the chest of drawers held a dark, wooden box that most likely held all of Martin's jewelry. There were no clothes on the floor, or even draped over the chair. Like his desk at work, Martin's bedroom was neatly kept. Danny opened the closet, noting the shoes that were in a row on the floor and the backpacks stowed in the corners. Martin's suits took up one side of the closet, then dress shirts, and then a few other nice items of clothing. A tie rack was secured to the inside of the door, and their display was the only spot of color in the room. 

Danny was torn between condemning the man he loved as being boring and feeling sorry that Martin had been in New York almost two full years now and hadn't had a chance to do anything with the room.

"Turn the covers down," Jack said as he escorted a now shirtless Martin into the room. 

Danny tried not to wince as his eyes were drawn to the large bandage that hid where he'd bitten Martin. He didn't want to look at the other marks on Martin's body and was somewhat grateful to have something else to do. Moving quickly to the bed, Danny turned the covers back, then stood out of the way as Jack told Martin to sit down.

"Find a clean T-shirt or something that he can wear to bed, and some sweatpants, too." Jack's voice was firm and Danny had no trouble picking up on the anger within it. 

As Danny went through Martin's drawers to find the requested items, he heard Jack trying to get Martin's shoes and socks off. Jack obviously intended to put Martin to bed, and from the sound of things, Martin wasn't having anything to do with that idea.

"We're supposed to go to the office," Martin protested. "Hey, that tickles!"

"Then keep your foot still," Jack replied, sounding more patient than Danny could recall ever hearing him sound. Definitely a by-product of being a father to two little girls. Danny glanced over and saw that Jack had successfully removed both shoes and one sock, and he smiled as he remembered just how difficult it had been to get those shoes and socks on his partner.

By the time Danny returned to Jack's side with the clothing, Martin's feet were bare, and he was still arguing his case with Jack.

"Martin, look at me," Jack firmly said. 

Martin looked up into Jack's face, blinking rapidly as if he were trying to get the man's image in focus.

"You need to sleep. There will be plenty of time tomorrow for you to do your paperwork on the case."

"You won't be mad at me for not going in today?" Martin asked, a slight pout beginning.

"No, I won't be mad at you for that. I will be mad though, if you don't get some sleep. Now, hold out your arms and put on this shirt." Jack had taken the shirt from Danny and now held it out toward Martin. As Danny watched Jack help Martin dress, he felt a slight tug of jealousy. He was the one who should have been dressing Martin, not Jack or any other person. Then Danny remembered that Martin was bare under those slacks, and he definitely didn't want Jack seeing that!

"Jack, I'll help Martin with his sweatpants," Danny said.

Jack glared at him. "I think that you've helped Martin quite enough already. I'll take care of getting Martin settled into bed. Why don't you go wait in the living room?" 

It might have been formed as a question, but Danny knew an order when he heard one. He handed the sweatpants to Jack, then nodded at Martin. "Sleep well, Fitzie."

"You, too," Martin said, smiling at him.

"And close the door on your way out," Jack said as he reached to undo Martin's pants. 

"Sure." Danny closed the door, but he couldn't resist standing there, straining to overhear what was going on in the bedroom. And he definitely didn't try to suppress his grin as he heard Martin protesting when Jack undid the button and zipper of his slacks. If Jack was going to be so overprotective as to chase him out of the room, then he deserved to be treated to a royal Fitzgerald tantrum over being undressed without permission. It almost made him forget about the fact that he didn't want anyone else seeing Martin naked.

Almost. Danny couldn't help but wonder if Martin was grabbing his own cock and waving it in Jack's direction, taunting Jack the same way that he'd taunted him earlier. He hoped that Martin wasn't doing that, but with the amount of alcohol that he'd apparently consumed and still had in his system, there was no telling what the boy would do.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date originally published: April 17, 2009

Danny sat down on the plush couch and tried to not think about how much trouble he was in with Jack. He knew that he'd messed up by letting Martin go to the bar alone, but he didn't see how it was his fault that Martin went and got plastered. True, he might have been a catalyst, but Martin was a grown man and perfectly capable of making his own choices, even the bad ones. Jack might be angry with him over the biting, since that indicated some kind of sexual activity. But Danny had ended that before it had gone too far, so he didn't think that Jack could really fault him for seducing his partner or anything like that.

Ah, Hell. Who was he trying to kid? Jack would be blaming him for all of that and more, and if Danny were honest with himself, he knew that he was to blame for some of the bad things that had happened to Martin over the weekend. The only bad thing he wasn't guilty about was the whole bit with Larabee, so if Jack wanted to be upset with someone about that, then he could blame Martin or Larabee. And speaking of Larabee, did Jack tell him that he'd been fucking one of his team? Or did he let the man fly back to Colorado never knowing the last name of the guy he'd spent last week with?

"Thinking hard or barely thinking?" Jack asked as he sat down in the chair. "Although, I should tell you that I hope it's the thinking hard option, since you've obviously spent most of the weekend barely thinking."

Danny sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees as he considered his reply. His first instinct was to go on the offense, and point out that Martin himself was the one to blame, but instead Danny opted to stay quiet, knowing that Jack would be more than happy to fill in the silence.

Danny looked over at Jack and tried to not to flinch back at the glare he was receiving. So maybe staying silent wasn't going to work. "Jack, I…"

"I thought you knew enough about human bites to know that a bite should be treated as soon as possible. Right now, I don't really want to know the details about how Martin got that bite, but I do want to know what the Hell you were thinking to let it go so long without being properly treated. You broke the skin, Danny, increasing the risk of infection, and you left it up to Martin to try to cleanse it with soap and water. No bandages or antiseptic ointment, no concern as to if the wound would get infected. Is that the way you take care of your friends?"

Danny turned his gaze to Martin's floor. Shit, he'd really fucked that up, hadn't he? "To tell you the truth, I never once thought about it, Jack. There were other things going on at the time, and touching Martin, even for such a short time, wasn't something I could risk right then."

Danny looked back up at Jack, expecting to find that glare still in place. Instead he saw a concerned look, and for some reason that bothered him more than the glare had. When Jack glared, it meant he was angry or upset, and Danny knew how to handle Jack when he was like that. He didn't know how to handle it when Jack was being all caring and paternal, or big-brotherly. Those weren't things he'd had any real experience with, and Danny tended to steer clear of those types of feelings.

"Look, we might as well get this out into the open now and get it over with. Things happened over the weekend that led to us telling one another how we felt, and yes, things got physical. But I came to my senses before we really did anything, and brought things to a halt. You don't have to worry about two of your team being lovers or anything like that, because it's not going to happen. We're back to where we were before we went to Denver, and that's good." Danny nodded. "We're fine."

Jack also nodded. "I guess being fine explains why Martin went to the hotel bar and got so drunk that he probably won't even remember flying home."

"It was his way of dealing with it…and everything else. Did you know that Larabee's second-in-command just happens to look like Martin? I thought Martin was going to pass out when he saw Vin Tanner. As it was, he ended up losing his breakfast. Of course, at the time I had no idea bout Martin and Larabee, and looking back…" Danny shook his head. "I don't know how Martin held himself together, Jack. I really don't. Larabee's team aren't just co-workers to him, they're all friends, and close. And now Martin and Tanner think they might be related, because not only do they look enough alike to be twins, but they share a Hell of a lot of characteristics, too. They're both lactose intolerant, and they share some mannerisms. It was odd to see them together."

Jack looked confused as he leaned forward in the chair. "You didn't know about Martin and Larabee? But Martin told me Friday night that he'd told you on the flight to Denver."

Danny shook his head, still smarting over the fact that he'd misread Martin's words so badly. A good portion of Martin's present anguish was linked to that. "He thought he had, but I misinterpreted what he said. I didn't know about it until late last night, after we'd spent the day with Team 7, and then had dinner with them. It also didn't help matters any that Martin thought that I'd told Tanner all about him and Larabee, when I'd really just confirmed Tanner's suspicions that Larabee had spent his free time with another man. Seems that Tanner's in love with the guy and wanted to know if he had a chance with him. Seeing as how Larabee liked Martin well enough, I'd say the answer to that is a big yes. Then there was Ezra Standish, who figured out that Martin was Victor's son. Seems that Standish is ex-FBI, and he really, really hates Victor. That made dinner a bit tense at one point. It also didn't help that Martin was having a snit fit at the time, and he was drinking."

Jack sighed and leaned back in the chair, suddenly looking as tired as Danny felt. "From the beginning, Danny. I want to know everything that happened, and don't even think about giving me a cleaned-up version. After this weekend, there's not much more that can surprise me."

Jack wanted to hear it all? Danny's lips pursed as he tried to think about where to start, and decided to start with the very beginning, or the beginning as he knew it. "Well, it all started when I saw this sexy looking guy in your office. I couldn't see as much of him as I'd have liked, but what I saw looked damn good. I circled through the halls, so I could see into your office from the other side, thinking I'd get to see his eyes, but he was already gone. It was a few weeks later when I saw him again, and you introduced him as our new team member." Danny couldn't help but smile as he remembered just how good Martin had looked that day, and how he'd had to reach deep to find something harsh to say about the guy or else risk outing himself by trying to kiss Martin there and then.

"I was talking about this weekend, smart-ass." Jack rolled his eyes and seemed to ignore Danny's grin.

"Hey, you said the beginning, remember?" Danny chuckled, then he thought back to when they met Team 7. He'd start with that, since nothing of importance happened on the flight to Denver. Well, nothing of importance unless you counted him screwing up when it came to understanding what Martin had told him.

"We got to the Federal Building in Denver a bit early, and had to wait for Team 7 to arrive. Once they were in, we went to their floor to meet them. As I said before, Martin was pretty shocked at seeing Vin Tanner, and he was sick. It was decided that I'd stay at the office to go over their ATF cases while Martin went with one of the team members, Buck Wilmington, out to Larabee's house and then to go over the files from when Larabee worked Denver P.D. I don't know what all happened between Martin and Wilmington, but Martin later told me that he and Wilmington spoke about Larabee and that Wilmington knew about the two of them, or rather, about Larabee being with another man, then later Wilmington figured it out or Martin told him, or a combination of both. And, as I said earlier, Tanner pretty much guessed that Larabee had been with another man, although he had no idea that it was Martin. He admitted that he's in love with Larabee, although he's never told the guy. We were invited out to dinner with the team, and we went. Martin was sick on the way over, and although there was some tension at times during dinner, it went relatively well. Then you called with the news that you'd found Larabee and we went back to the hotel."

Danny nodded, wondering if Jack really wanted him to continue. The rest was personal, beyond personal, really, and Danny wasn't sure that Jack could handle the details, even if he said he could.

"Go on," Jack said, motioning impatiently with his hand. 

"Things went to Hell once we got back to our room. Martin decided to shower, and when he took off his undershirt, I noticed that he was bruised and had other marks on his body. Some hickeys, bruises, and some welts. I thought that some woman left them behind, but then Martin made some comment about how Tanner would have a much better chance with Larabee if he liked that kind of stuff, too. And that's when it hit me that Martin had been the slut…the guy who'd been with Larabee. I didn't take it well, especially when Martin revealed that he hadn't even known Larabee's last name until he saw the guy's picture on the board."

Jack's eyebrows rose at that, but he remained quiet, obviously waiting for Danny to continue.

Danny shrugged. "Martin was confused because he thought that he'd told me that he'd been with Larabee, only I'd misunderstood him. There was no misunderstanding the conversation we had last night, though. I asked him how he could be so stupid as to go off with a stranger." Danny smiled slight as he inclined his head toward Jack. "He replied that you'd said something similar and then he laid into me about how neither one of us had any right to judge him."

Danny's smile faded. "I love him, Jack. And I've had plenty of fantasies about Martin over the years. So, when I tell you that I couldn't think clearly right then, I hope you can understand that it was because of me being jealous and also having Martin standing there, in nothing but his slacks and…well, let's just say that concentration was a bit difficult. I sent him to shower so I could think. I came to the conclusion that Martin obviously didn't like me, and I got past my jealousy toward Larabee and resolved to be just what I've been, and that's Martin's friend. I finally realized that the water wasn't running, and then Martin came out to get something from the dresser. I apologized and he accepted, and we decided to watch a game on TV. While Martin showered, I went to get some popcorn, candy, and soda, and once Martin was out of the shower, we sat on the bed and watched the game."

"Sounds normal so far," Jack commented. "Except for you finding out about what Martin likes to do in his spare time." There was no look of censure on Jack's face, and Danny took that as a good sign. That meant that Jack wasn't harshly judging Martin, which was good because one thing Danny knew for certain was that Martin would be devastated if he thought that Jack held him in low regard.

"It was. We've done that on many out of town trips, and it was turning into a night like many others. Then I noticed that Martin had fallen asleep, and I started thinking about him and why he'd turned to someone like Larabee, and how I'd missed my chance with him. And the next thing I knew, I was touching him, but not enough to awaken him. He made a noise and I stopped, not wanting to disturb him. I was heading for the bathroom to shower when I realized that he was having a rather erotic dream, and I still think that I heard him saying my name."

"And you let your little head take over from your big one?" Jack asked, making Danny wince at the choice of words.

"That's a bit blunt, but yeah, that's pretty much what happened. Martin woke up, we were making out, and I was…" Danny looked back down at the floor, feeling his face growing warm as he spoke. "I was kissing Martin's bare skin and trying to ignore the marks that Larabee had left behind. I think that I was thinking that it was now my turn to mark Martin, to show everyone that he was mine, and that's when I bit him. And I liked it, and Martin made a noise that pretty much showed that he liked it and that's when I stopped things."

"After interviewing Ron Bradley and seeing the marks on Martin's body, that couldn't have taken you by surprise." Jack's voice was nice and even, and Danny was grateful for that, since he'd been expecting the man to be angry. Then again, maybe he shouldn't have been too surprised that Jack would fall back onto his psychologist training.

"It wasn't Martin that surprised me, it was me." Danny looked back up at Jack. "I like to be the one in charge, to dominate my partner. And God knows that Martin was submissive in many of my fantasies, Jack. But not like that, not that totally. And I was totally unprepared to find that I enjoyed hurting him. My father…let's just say that my home life wasn't all that great and leave it at that. And I vowed to never be like him, Jack. Never. Anyway, I pushed Martin away and he decided to go for a run. He ended up running a bit too far and called for me to come to get him. Once we were back in the parking lot, I explained my reasoning to him, and I thought he understood why I couldn't risk being with him. I can't trust myself with him, and I can't trust that he'll stop me if I go too far. We headed inside, and that's when he decided that he deserved to get drunk. I reminded him that we needed to leave the hotel before four, and he said he'd be back in time to pack. I went to our room, called my sponsor and we talked until around one. I then managed to get some sleep, and when my alarm went off at three, I saw that Martin wasn't there. At that point I figured that I'd get packed and ready, then wait a bit for him, and if he didn't show, then I'd go get him. But, when I got out of the shower, Martin was there, trying to change for the trip home. I'd already packed his things, so he was having some difficulties with that."

"No underwear." Jack had a slight smile on his face.

"I had no idea what was clean and what wasn't," Danny admitted. "I got him to the airport, but I kept his badge and gun because I wasn't trusting a drunk with those. Things were good until we reached security and Martin told me and everyone within a two-mile radius that he didn't have his gun. I think you know the rest."

"Yes."

Danny waited for Jack to tell him that he'd been a fool, or to tear into him for breaking Martin's heart, but Jack sat there, silent and watching him.

"Look, I know that when Martin's gotten some sleep and is sober, he'll agree with me that things will be just like they were before. This isn't going to effect the team, or our work performance, Jack. It was just a hard weekend for Martin, but now that Larabee's back in Denver where he belongs, then things can get back to normal."

"Larabee's not in Denver," Jack said. "That's one of the reasons why I decided to meet you two at the airport. He's at our office, going over the case against Ella Gaines. Since she's apparently connected to the death of his wife and son, he's intending to stay here until her arraignment Monday. I didn't think that Martin needed to walk into the bull pen and see Larabee sitting there."

Danny swallowed hard, knowing that Jack was right about that. "Does he know?"

Jack tilted his head questioningly. "Does who know what?"

"Does Larabee know that his Martin is our Martin?"

"I didn't tell him," Jack said, shrugging. "But I noticed him near Martin's desk last night."

Danny tried to remember just what Martin had pinned to the half-wall behind his desk and couldn't. He'd seen it so many times, but now that he needed to remember, needed to know if there was anything there that would identify Martin, he was coming up blank.

Jack seemed to sense his memory lapse. "He was looking rather intently at Martin's graduation photo."

That clicked in Danny's mind. Martin had pinned that to the board, right next to one of his aunt and her family. It was a good shot of Martin, all smiles and looking rather proud of himself for getting through the FBI course at Quantico. 

"He didn't ask about Martin or say anything?" Danny asked, wondering how Larabee was handling knowing that the guy he'd been fucking was one of the men out there trying to find and save his sorry ass.

Jack shook his head. "Not one word. So, either he didn't make the connection between the photograph and Martin's nameplate, or he's smart enough to be discreet."

Jack got to his feet. "I need to get back to the office. Are you staying here or should I drop you off at your place?"

"I was thinking of going to the office and getting my report done," Danny said as he got to his feet. And if he just happened to run into Chris Larabee, well, it would only be natural to introduce himself.

"Not a good idea, Danny." Jack headed for the door. "As a matter of fact, I'm ordering you to *not* come in today. So, which is it going to be? Because if you're staying here, then you need to get your bag out of my trunk."

"I'll walk down with you." If he couldn't go and give Larabee the third degree, then Danny could at least be there when Martin finally awoke. They obviously needed to talk again, and Danny just didn't feel right leaving Martin alone right then.

"If you want to get back in here, then you should probably grab Martin's keys," Jack pointed to the coffee table where Danny had tossed the keys when he'd opened the door. "I'll meet you downstairs."

"Right. Hey, Jack?"

Jack paused as he opened the door, looking back at Danny. "Yeah?"

"Thanks for not tearing me a new one," Danny said, giving Jack a half-smile.

"I thought about it, but I think that I know you well enough by now to know that you've already done that to yourself. As you well should. Martin didn't deserve having his heart ripped out." Jack stepped out into the hallway, closing the door on that statement.

Danny picked up the keys, bouncing them in his palm as he found himself agreeing with Jack's words. Martin's heart had been torn out at least twice over the weekend, first by Larabee and then by him. As much as it broke Danny's heart to have told Martin he loved him and now turning Martin away, he knew that his pain didn't hold a candle to what Martin had to be feeling. He went back to the bedroom, opening the door and looking at Martin from the doorway. Martin was sound asleep, and Danny's fingers itched to touch the man, and he wanted nothing more than to crawl into that bed and spoon his body behind Martin's, holding him while they both slept.

Shaking his head over those wayward thoughts, Danny gently closed the door and headed downstairs to get his bag. As he walked down the steps, Danny found himself hoping that he hadn't been lying to Jack when he'd said that everything would be just like it was before. Danny didn't know what he'd do if he lost Martin's friendship, and it was something that he simply did not want to think about. Things *had* to be okay between them, because for them not to be was too painful to consider.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date originally published: April 17, 2009

The first thing Martin was aware of when he started waking up was that it felt as if a cotton factory had set up shop in his mouth. He thought that was bad until then he moved his head and groaned as white hot pain shot through it, reminding him of when he'd been hit on the head with a baseball bat. Biting back another groan, Martin tried to concentrate on his surroundings. At first, all he heard was the whooshing sound of his own blood as it seemed to echo in his head, and then he became aware of the faint sound of traffic noise. There were no bright lights beating down on his eyelids, nobody poking at him, no kind voices urging him to wake up and talk. Okay, so he wasn't in a hospital, or at least not in the emergency room.

Sniffing and smelling nothing that seemed remotely antiseptic, Martin determined that he definitely wasn't in a hospital, and he was thankful for that small favor. But if he wasn't in a hospital, then why did his head hurt? And where the Hell was he?

As his body adjusted to a wakeful state of being, Martin realized that he really had to pee. Of course, that meant getting up, and that was going to hurt. Steeling himself, Martin began to sit up, hoping that once he opened his eyes, he'd know where he was and could find a bathroom. Moving slowly didn't hurt all that much, as Martin did his best to not move his head at all. There was something holding him down, and Martin slowly opened his eyes and saw that he was in a bed and under the covers. To be more precise, in the dimness of the room, he could see that he was in *his* bed, and under his own covers. At least, he thought he was in his own room. It was possible that someone else had a bedroom as boring as his, but he somehow doubted it.

Martin pushed the covers aside, hissing as that movement jarred his head and caused yet more pain. What was wrong with him? Martin slowly turned so that he could get his feet on the floor, and he tried to remember the last thing he'd been doing.

"Ah, shit…" Martin muttered as images seemed to rush at him, most of them bad. Chris going missing, him confessing to Jack that he'd been with Chris and then leaving for Denver with Danny, meeting Vin Tanner, who aside from looking just like him, was most likely was a relative, talking with Buck Wilmington about Chris, dinner with Team 7, Danny acting like an ass, Danny kissing him, licking him, biting him…pushing him away. And then Danny trying to explain himself and all Martin could hear was "I don't trust you." Then came Martin's decision to drink himself to death, which judging by the pain in his head, had almost happened. Or at least he was wishing that it had happened.

As Martin got to his feet, he tried to remember more, and by the time he got to his bathroom, he had flashes of getting back to the hotel room, then being in an airport and on the plane, and then Jack meeting them at the airport. Jack had cleaned his bite, put antiseptic ointment on it and bandaged it, then put him to bed.

Frowning, Martin turned on the light, squinting against the sudden brightness, and took care of the business at hand, not really remembering Jack or anyone else dressing him in the T-shirt and sweats he was currently wearing. Maybe it had been Danny? The man who didn't trust him, yet claimed to love him. As if. Contradictions like that seemed to be the bane of Martin's life.

Martin flushed the toilet and washed his hands, then tried to find something to take care of his hangover. Shaking out four ibuprofen tablets into his hand, Martin turned the water back on and swallowed all four caplets, then drank straight from the faucet to wash them down. It hurt to bend his head down like that, but Martin was willing to put up with that discomfort since it meant that the pain would soon be eased. He then brushed his teeth, glad to get the cottony feeling gone.

As Martin tapped the excess water out of the toothbrush, he pondered on whether to crawl back into bed or try to wake up even more. He hadn't even looked at the clock when he'd gotten out of bed, so aside from knowing it was late enough to make his apartment dim, he had no idea what time it was. Going back to bed and burrowing under the covers sounded tempting, but the sensible part of his brain reminded him that it had been a long time since he'd last eaten, and going any longer without food wasn't going to do much to help his headache go away. Come to think of it, Martin wasn't really sure when he last ate. He remembered having dinner with Team 7, and then munching on popcorn while watching the game with Danny, and a vague memory of something with syrup, but he really wasn't sure just what it was that he ate. Breakfast on the plane, most likely. God, he must have really been drunk on his ass if he couldn't remember that. Then again, most airplane meals were tasteless, so maybe it was best that he didn't remember what he'd eaten.

Resigned to staying awake, Martin reached for the soap and washed his face. The cool water felt good against his skin, and made him consider the idea of a cool, not cold, shower. He began to strip, not having to take off much since he was only wearing a T-shirt and sweatpants. And he really didn't want to know why he wasn't wearing any underwear, nope, that line of thought just made his stomach queasy, especially with the chance that it had been Jack who'd dressed him for bed. 

After adjusting the water so it would be lukewarm, Martin stepped into the tub, pulling the curtain closed behind him. He leaned into the spray, shuddering at first as the water hit his skin, then stepping fully into the spray as his body became acclimated to the temperature. It did feel good, and Martin simply stood there for minutes, just letting the water wash over him and doing all he could to empty his mind. When he finally did feel the inclination to move again, he first upped the hot water, getting the water warm, and then he washed his hair and body. Glancing down at his body and the marks left there, Martin smiled slightly as he remembered how he'd gotten those marks. And then his eyes went to the bandage and the smile turned into a frown. That was not a pleasant memory at all, even though it could have been. Why did Danny Taylor have to be so damn stubborn? Martin yanked the sodden bandage away, hissing as it pulled at his skin, but the pain didn't really bother him all that much. Not the physical pain, anyway. It was the emotional pain that hurt the most, knowing that Danny cared, had wanted him, and then rejected him out of some kind of self-sacrificing bullshit that Martin still didn't quite understand. Why couldn't Danny see that he wasn't anything like his father? That biting him and liking it was not the same out of getting a thrill out of beating the crap out of your own wife and children?

And the words, 'I don't trust you' kept echoing in Martin's head. Danny didn't trust himself, and he didn't trust Martin. Martin wasn't sure which hurt the worst, that Danny cared enough about him to not want to risk hurting him, or that he didn't trust him.

Martin turned off the water and rested his head against the tub enclosure. When did his life get so complicated? He'd been fine with secretly lusting after Danny and seeking out one, or two-night stands. For the most part, he'd been happy with his life, and then Chris had to walk into it, and yeah, last week he was happy, too. It had been nice to fall asleep in Chris's arms each night and then waking up the next morning with the same man. They hadn't asked for last names because they weren't needed. Martin and Chris understood one another, and that was what counted the most. And for those hours, Martin could forget about how he felt about Danny. But Ella Gaines had put an end to that when she'd kidnapped Chris, and Martin shuddered as he remembered Jack telling him over the phone that it looked as if the bitch had been behind the murder of Chris's wife and child. Chris had found himself kidnapped by an old lover who was now turning out to be a murderess. Thinking of what Chris had gone through made Martin realize that he wasn't the only person who might feel that his life had gone to Hell. Chris was definitely facing a lot of shit, and Martin knew that if he'd been held by someone who had killed his family, then he'd be about ready to tear his hair out by now. Or strangle the bitch, if someone were stupid enough to leave him alone with her.

Martin pushed the curtain open and reached for a towel, rubbing it briskly over his skin, not caring when it went over his bruises and welts a bit too hard. The pain reminded him of Chris and that was good. It wouldn't be long before those had faded, and Martin's only reminders of last week would be his memories.

Not so with the bite. Martin lightly ran his fingers over that, wondering how it was going to be like at work now. He and Danny had crossed a line, and he didn't know if they were going to be able to back up and pretend that it had never happened. He had valued Danny's friendship, and couldn't help but worry that Danny would now be distant toward him, a distance borne of Danny's fear and his knowledge of Martin's innermost desires. Maybe he should transfer out, but where would he go? D.C. was out of the question because there was no way he'd put himself that close to his father. Seattle was also out of the question because he would not take a step backward, even if it was only geographical. Hell, he liked the Missing Persons Unit, and would see just about any assignment as being a step backward. Denver? It would be nice to be there to get to know Vin Tanner better, especially if it turned out that they were related. But Chris was also in Denver, and Martin knew that he wouldn't be able to hide his attraction to the man, which wouldn't be fair to Vin. Vin deserved a chance with Chris, one without the distraction of a temporary lover hanging around. Or would that be ex-temporary lover? Ex-fuck toy? That was probably more like the truth, but didn't sound too nice. Accurate, but not nice.

Martin pulled on the sweatpants he'd slept in, leaving the shirt for when he came back to put on a new bandage, and headed for the kitchen, leaving the bathroom light on because he didn't think his headache was up to a bright apartment just yet. He was thirsty, and was just going to get a glass of water and some fruit, and then settle down on the couch and watch some TV. Let his headache have a chance to ease off before turning on more lights and fixing something more substantial to eat.

As Martin walked through the living room, he thought he heard something different. He paused, wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him. But no, he heard it again. A soft snoring sound was coming from his couch. The light from the bathroom wasn't enough to let Martin see over the back of his couch. He walked over to the end of it and then laughed softly as he saw that someone was curled up on the cushions. Not just any 'someone', but Danny.

Smiling, Martin went to the linen closet and took out one of the extra blankets he had stored there. Returning to the couch, Martin gently placed it over Danny, careful to not awaken him. He wasn't really sure if he should be pissed that Danny had stayed or touched by the action. Hell, Jack probably told him to stay, Martin finally reasoned. That is, if his memory of Jack being there was real. Maybe he'd dreamt that and it had been Danny who'd cleaned his bite and put the bandage on it? And that reminded Martin that he still needed to get a clean and dry bandage on the bite, but that could wait until he'd had some water. It would do the wound good to air dry, he thought.

Once more heading to the kitchen, Martin stopped when he heard a firm knock on his door. Not quite up to company, Martin hoped that whoever was there had gotten the wrong apartment and was looking for someone else. He hurried to the door, not wanting further knocking to awaken Danny. He undid the security chain, not feeling up to talking through a three inch gap and opened the door only to find himself face to face with a smiling Chris Larabee.

If someone had stopped him from opening the door and asked what he'd do if Chris was on the other side, Martin would have assured them that he'd be polite to Chris, but that was about it. He was in love with Danny, even if Danny was being an ass about things, and then there was Vin Tanner to think about. Martin would never come between Vin and Chris.

However, the reality was that the second Martin saw Chris, he felt weak in the knees and his cock immediately began to harden. Chris just had that effect on him, always had. Martin probably could have handled that though, if not for the fact that Chris stepped forward into his personal space, put an arm around his waist and began to kiss him as if he'd been starved for affection his entire life.

And God help him, Martin couldn't keep himself from kissing back. Or from parting his lips and giving Chris full access to his mouth. He was vaguely aware of the door shutting, and then a warm hand found its way down the back of his pants, cupping his ass, Chris's hand cool against his warmer skin.

"God, I missed you so much," Chris said once he came up for air. His free hand came up, and he traced Martin's jaw with his thumb, that smile still on his face. "I lost track of how many laws I broke trying to find you."

Having Chris's hand on his ass made it a bit difficult to think, but once Martin had registered Chris's words, he found himself looking at the man in confusion. "Why?"

Chris softly laughed, "You would ask that, wouldn't you? I missed you, Martin. I had our last night all planned out, with a few surprises. And then when Ella grabbed me…well, I found out that the idea of never seeing you again just didn't sit right with me. I made up my mind then that if I got out of her place alive, I'd find you. Turned out to be easier than I expected to find out who you were, but a Hell of a lot trickier than I expected to actually find you."

Chris pulled Martin closer until their bodies touched and Martin could easily feel Chris's cock pressing against him despite the layers of clothing between them. Chris traced Martin's lips with his finger, then lowered his hand to the waistband of Martin's pants. 

"Lose this," Chris said, his voice husky. "I need you, and I need you now." 

Chris's hand then slipped under the waistband of Martin's sweats, sliding along Martin's hip until it reached his cock, and Chris wasted no time in grasping it firmly, and Martin heard himself moaning.

Oh, God, it felt so good, so right to be with Chris and do what he wanted. But there was Danny…oh, shit, Danny was right there in the living room! And Vin, who wasn't there, but Chris needed to know that Vin loved him, and Martin just couldn't do this. If only he'd never met Vin, then yeah, he could have. He could have let himself believe that Danny would never touch him again and let Chris have his way.

"Chris, I can't. We can't…ooohhh…" Martin bit back a moan as Chris's hand moved lower and firmly grasped his balls, giving them a hard, slow squeeze.

"There's Danny, and…I can't think when you do that…there's Vin…please, Chris…we can't."

"You need to take your hands out of Martin's pants, step back and listen to him, Larabee."

Martin moaned again, but this time it was because of the hard tone in Danny's voice, and not because of anything Chris was doing. Chris didn't move a muscle. Instead he looked over Martin's shoulder toward the couch and then he moved, his hands squeezing Martin's ass and balls, eliciting a whimper from him.

"I take it that you're Danny?"

"That's right. And I'm not gonna tell you again. Get your hands off Martin, or there won't be much left of you to send back to Denver. That would break Vin's heart, but from what I'm seeing, you don't seem to care too much about that."

"You threatening me?" 

Chris sounded more amused than upset, which was okay by Martin, because he was now feeling upset enough for the two of them. How dare Danny stand there and say that, as if he had a right to Martin's affections and body! Danny had made it clear that he wasn't going to be with him, and as far as Martin was concerned, that meant that Danny had no say about who he was with. Not now, not ever.

Martin began to squirm and Chris loosened the grips he had on Martin's body enough so that Martin could turn until he was looking at Danny. Danny was up from the couch and standing just a few feet away, looking determined and a little bit angry. For some reason, that made Martin even angrier than before. Danny had no right to be angry with him or Chris.

"Danny, that's enough. You made your feelings perfectly clear last night, remember? Who I'm with or what I do with that person is no business of yours. You have no business coming in here and threatening Chris."

Danny's eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me, but I didn't just come in here, Martin. I've been here ever since Jack and I hauled your ass home from the airport. I stayed here to make sure that you were okay and that you didn't choke on your own vomit or something. But you know what? You want me gone, I'm outta here. Just don't come complaining to me about how horrible you feel the next time you see Vin and are feeling guilty because you were busy spreading your legs for the man he loves."

"Excuse me?"

Martin ignored Chris's comment as he watched Danny sit back down on the couch and bend over, apparently putting on his shoes. "Oh, that's classic, Danny, just classic. You lead me on and then dump me and now act as if you're on the high ground here! Well, you can just kiss that idea goodbye! I'd never betray Vin that way, and you know it. Or maybe you don't, in which case, I'd say that's a far better reason for you to not get involved with me than that cock and bull psychological crap you were spouting last night."

"Excuse me?" Chris tried again, and this time he tightened the hand that was still holding onto Martin's balls, reminding Martin that Chris still had one of his hands inside his sweats. "Vin loves me?"

Martin didn't like to be interrupted when he was trying to get his point across, but on a good day, and in certain places, such as work, he'd put up with it. However, on a bad day, and in other places, such as his own home, he wasn't going to let it pass.

Growling, Martin twisted his body and took a step to the side even as he grabbed Chris's arm and pulled it up and out of his pants. "Stay out of this, Chris."

A few feet away, Danny smirked as he watched, and that just seemed to make Martin even angrier. After the weekend he'd had, he wasn't in a good mood, and everything that should have resulted in good memories was now tainted. The time with Chris was tainted with the possibility that he was related in some way to Chris's friend, Vin, and Martin wasn't even going to go into the fact that Vin was in love with Chris. Then Martin had found himself finally getting together with Danny, only to have Danny stop things suddenly and then come up with some stupid reason. On top of that, Danny seemed to think that he had some say in Martin's life, and was now resorting to threats and insults in order to keep that position.

Truth was, if Martin had given in to Chris, which he most likely would have if Danny hadn't been there, then he would have been feeling guilty about it, and the fact that Danny had picked up on that just pissed him off even more. Of course, none of this would be an issue at all if Chris hadn't tracked him down and then tried to fuck him right there in his own entryway.

"You." Martin said, pointing to Danny and giving him an intense glare. "You've got some nerve, Taylor, and while there are some days when it comes in handy, today is not one of those days. You need to leave, and you need to leave now."

Martin then turned his gaze and finger to Chris. "And you. I don't know how you found me, and right now I don't care. You've got someone back in Denver who's in love with you, and you need to give some thought to that before you go around fucking the first guy you see who happens to look like Vin Tanner. I really didn't appreciate hauling my ass off to Denver only to come face to face with someone who could be my twin, and I don't know what kind of a sick game you were playing, Chris, but right now, I don't care. It's over. Get out."

Both Danny and Chris stood there, looking at Martin with amused expressions on their faces, and Martin felt himself being pushed to the edge by that.

Martin went to the door and opened it, standing to one side so that they could leave. "I told you both to get out, and I meant it. Out. Now."

Danny's amused smile turned into a smirk. "You're still drunk, aren't you?" He chuckled slightly, then shook his head. "I tell you what. You really should get some more sleep, get fully sober, and then we'll talk. Larabee can just come back later."

"I don't think so," Chris said, his amused look now replaced by one that clearly said that Danny had lost his mind. That was a sentiment that Martin could agree with, and probably would if not for the fact that he was also pissed off at Chris right then.

"You can both go and *not* come back," Martin said. He stepped between both men, taking them by the elbows and escorted them to the door. "Bye."

Moving quickly, Martin released their arms, took a few steps back and slammed the door closed. He couldn't hold back the smile that appeared when he heard a few muffled cries of pain from the other side. Knowing that the door automatically locked, Martin headed for his kitchen, actually making it there this time. He poured himself a glass of water, then drank it down while ignoring the knocking at the door. They could knock until their knuckles bled, Martin thought. It would serve them right, coming into his home and treating him like that. He poured another glass of water, then walked to his bedroom, the idea of watching TV no longer appealing. What was appealing was crawling back under the covers until the two clowns went away and left him alone. Or else they ended up being hauled away by the cops after his neighbors called the police because they were making too much noise. If Danny were lucky, then Jack would bail him out, probably bail Chris out, too. He grinned as he found himself hoping that neither man would get lucky enough to find a sucker to bail them out.

Feeling much better despite the lingering hangover, Martin closed his eyes, hoping to get some more sleep and lose the headache. He did his best to put his worries aside, despite knowing that they'd be there when he woke up later, but for right now, he wasn't having to deal with Danny and his sex appeal and his phobias or Chris and his sex appeal and his own feelings of guilt over being attracted to Chris when he knew that someone else was in love with the man. Then there was the whole bit of feeling guilty over being attracted to Chris while Danny was in the room, and knowing that Danny cared, even if he was being a stupid ass. Something had to give, and Martin was quickly on the way to deciding that it wasn't going to be him this time.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date originally published: April 18, 2009

As Martin continued to ignore his knocking, Danny frowned. He'd been more than a little disconcerted when he'd been awoken by a knock on the door and looked up to see Martin with Chris Larabee. Not just standing there with Larabee, but letting Larabee stick his hand down his pants. Jealousy had surged through Danny at that, then anger that Larabee was touching *his* Martin. Hadn't the man done enough damage already? Before he could think about it, Danny had gotten to his feet, determined to put a stop to things before they got too far. The fact that he was keeping himself from touching Martin hadn't caught up to his possessiveness. 

Danny had really expected that he and Larabee would come to blows, and he'd actually been looking forward to it, so it was a surprise when Martin had gone postal on them and insisted they both leave. It was even more of a surprise when Martin physically escorted them to the door and pushed them out. Danny's ass still smarted over being hit by the door.

Of course, Danny wasn't going to let Martin get away with that, so he knocked on the door, wanting to be let back in. They really needed to talk, and Danny definitely needed to figure out if Martin was still under the effects of the alcohol he'd had that morning. He most likely wasn't, but being inebriated, even if it was just a buzz, was the only thing Danny could come with to explain why Martin had turned on him like that.

When one of Martin's neighbors opened her door and gazed out from the small space left open by the security chain, Danny smiled reassuring at her and then gave up on knocking. He still had the key to the door, and could go in at any time, but had wanted Martin to actually want him inside. Given that Martin had been in a pissy mood and now was ignoring him, Danny figured that it might be better to give his partner some time before trying again. Maybe go grab some take out and surprise Martin with dinner? The only problem with that idea was that Larabee had stayed once Martin had tossed them out of his place, and Danny didn't want to deal with the man. And not only was the man hanging around, but he was leaned up against the wall as if he owned the building, a smile of satisfaction on his face.

Scowling at Larabee, Danny shoved his hands in his pockets. "What has you so amused?"

"Vin loves me," Larabee replied.

Danny frowned. "Yeah, poor fool doesn't know what he'd in for, does he? Nothing quite like falling in love with your co-worker and then finding out that he's been out fucking someone who look likes you, is there?"

Larabee's smile disappeared and there was a dangerous glint in his eyes. He straightened up as he moved away from the wall. "I never used Martin that way. Yes, I noticed that he looked like Vin, and I almost turned around because of it. I was with Martin because I wanted Martin, pure and simple."

Danny's eyes narrowed as he listened to Larabee defend himself, and his hands came out of his pockets as he gestured while speaking. "Yeah, and we both just heard how much Martin believes that, didn't we? Don't you have a hotel to get back to? Because quite honestly, Martin doesn't need you around right now. Come to think of it, he doesn't *ever* need you around again." 

"Sounded to me like he doesn't need you around, either. Didn't he say something about you leading him on and then dumping him?" Larabee glared at Danny, and maybe that glare worked on some people, but Danny had been on the receiving end of too many intense glares over his life for them to bother him much now.

What did bother Danny was that Larabee had picked up on Martin's words and shoved them in his face. When Martin had said it, Danny was still caught up in the intense feeling of possessiveness that had grabbed him when he'd seen Larabee grabbing Martin's ass. In short, he hadn't paid much attention to it. His attention had been focused on getting Martin and Larabee away from each other. Now though, Danny could go back over those words, and he felt like kicking himself for making Martin feel that he'd been dumped.

But, Larabee made a much more convenient target than his own backside. "You should go now," Danny's voice was a growl, "While you still can."

"You threatening me again?" Larabee asked, sounding surprised. He chuckled and Danny could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing up at that sound.

"That would all depend on what you're planning on doing next. If it involves Martin in any way, then yeah, consider yourself threatened." At that moment, it didn't matter that they were standing in the hallway outside of Martin's apartment, with people happily going about their own lives just yards away. All that mattered was Martin's broken heart and Danny's desire to keep the man he loved safe from further heartache. Larabee would leave, even if Danny had to drag the bastard out of there.

The two men stood there, just a few feet apart, glaring at one another, neither one willing to look away first. Finally, Larabee broke the silence by starting to laugh. "Damn. You either really love him or hate me. Seeing as how we've never met, I'm doubtin' that you hate me all that much, so that just leaves you loving Martin."

"Oh, I'd never let not knowing you get in the way of hating you, Larabee, trust me on that." Danny felt a surge of pride over the fact that Larabee had blinked first, even if Danny didn't think that he'd like where the conversation was going.

"Well, we'll just have to do something about that bit about not knowing me, won't we? How about we start off right?" Larabee held his hand out. "Hey there, I'm Chris Larabee."

Danny stared at Larabee, wondering if he'd heard the man right. Why in the Hell would he want to get to know Larabee after all the man had done? Then it hit him, he was still feeling jealous, and not just because Larabee had been all over Martin minutes earlier, but that he'd had almost an entire week with Martin, taking what he wanted. Taking what Martin was apparently willing to give. Taking what Danny wouldn't allow himself to take.

It was that last thought that made Danny nod and reach for Larabee's hand. Yeah, he might be jealous of the guy, but it wasn't Larabee's fault that Danny was standing in the hallway instead of being curled up around Martin in a bed somewhere. Besides, this guy obviously meant something to Martin, and right then, Danny felt that it might just be better to stay on Martin's good side by playing nice with Larabee.

"Danny Taylor," Danny said. He glanced at Martin's closed and locked door, then looked back at Larabee. It couldn't hurt to try to get to know the guy, he thought. After all, he'd spent a good part of his weekend digging into Larabee's business and talking with his friends. The least he could do was try to give the guy the benefit of the doubt.

And maybe live vicariously through the guy. Just because he couldn't let himself be with Martin didn't mean that Danny didn't want to know what it was like. And he had a feeling that he'd get more out of Larabee's recounting of their nights together than he had gotten out of Ron Bradley's recitation of events.

"So, want to go grab a cup of coffee until Martin cools down?" Danny asked.

Larabee nodded. "Sure. But how will we know when he's willing to let us back in?"

Danny grinned broadly as he reached into his pocket for the key ring, then held it up so Larabee could see it. "Who said anything about knocking?"

Larabee laughed and stepped forward, clapping Danny lightly on the shoulder. "Sounds like a good plan to me, Taylor."

Danny turned to head toward the stairs. "That it is. And it's Danny."

Larabee nodded. "Chris."

They walked down to the entrance of the building, then Larabee held back while Danny tried to decide on going to the coffee shop to the right of the building or the one to the left. He finally decided on the one to the left. "This way. I was thinking of getting take out and bringing it back. Martin's usually easier to handle when you're plying him with food."

Larabee smirked. "He is at that."

Danny smirked in return, then remembered that the reason Ron Bradley had been able to talk so much about what Larabee had been doing in his hotel room was because the guy ordered room service every night. "That's right. You did get to eat with him, didn't you?"

"In a way," Larabee vaguely replied, then he came to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk, and Danny had no choice but to stop as well. Ignoring the pedestrians who had to step around them, Larabee looked directly at Danny. "I don't kiss and tell, Danny. Your investigation is over, and I'm here now. You want to know what Martin did when we were together, then I suggest you ask him."

Danny gazed back at Larabee, thinking that his idea of trying to learn what he was missing out on had been a bad one. A desperate and stupid one. The fact that Larabee wasn't willing to spill his guts sat well with Danny, and a nice contrast to how eager Ron Bradley had been to talk about what he'd seen and done.

"I appreciate that," Danny said. "Martin's had a hard time since he learned that you were our missing person, and it's not been easy on him knowing that some of his co-workers knew about his private life. So, do you like Thai food? 'Cause there's this great Thai place about a block away from the coffee shop. They've got the best spring rolls and crab Rangoon that I've ever had."

As they resumed walking, Larabee nodded. "I like it. And I'm guessing that this is one of Martin's favorite places?"

Danny glanced sideways at Larabee and grinned. "It is. He's going to be pissed at us for coming in without knocking, so distracting him with his favorite food can only be good for us."

Larabee grinned. "You don't have to do that, you know? Invite me back to his place to eat."

This time it was Danny's turn to stop in the middle of the sidewalk. He looked at Larabee, knowing that there were things that Martin needed to say to the other man. "Yeah, I do. You two need to talk before you go back to Denver. As you noticed, Martin and Vin do look alike, and after they met and got to talking, they're starting to think that they might be related in some way. If they are, then you and Martin *will* see each other again, and the less tension between you when that happens, the better."

Larabee actually looked uncomfortable as Danny spoke. It didn't take being a rocket scientist to figure out that Larabee hadn't thought that far ahead. Hell, he probably hadn't known that Martin and Tanner had so much more in common than their looks. 

"Shit."

Danny couldn't help but grin at the resigned tone in Larabee's voice. He clapped Larabee on the back. "Exactly. For now though, let's forget about that and just get that coffee. I think that you're going to want to be alert when you and Martin sit down to talk."

Larabee nodded and they once more headed for the coffee shop. After getting their drinks, they sat at a table by the window, so they could watch the people walk past as they talked about work, of all things. Danny then went for broke and told Larabee about what he and Tanner had spoken about back in Denver. The shining look in Larabee's eyes as Danny recounted Tanner's declaration of love for Larabee was all Danny needed to see in order to know that this man was not a threat to him where Martin's affections were concerned. Martin and Larabee might have connected the previous week, but it was Tanner who held Larabee's heart, not Martin. Despite having removed himself from Martin's love life, Danny felt relieved at that. If he wasn't going to be with Martin, then the least he could do was make sure that Martin ended up with someone who was deserving of his love and affections.

"So, we've got my love life sorted. Mostly." Larabee said. He was once more looking intently at Danny, and he leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. "Now we can talk about yours. I heard what Martin said to you, Danny, about leading him on and then dumping him, and seein' as how you didn't deny it when I said that you loved him, I'm going out on a limb and guessing that the two of you *do* love each other. So, what's the deal?"

Danny took a long sip of his coffee, then set the cup on the table, toying with it as he tried to figure out what to say. "I do love Martin, and he apparently loves me. Last night, I thought that I'd died and gone to Heaven, and then suddenly found myself in Hell." Danny shook his head and smiled sadly. "It's too complicated to get into, but let's just say that while we might love each other, I'm not who or what Martin needs and leave it at that."

Larabee tilted his head to one side, seemingly considering what Danny had said. Then he slowly grinned. "Let's not say that, okay? Instead, let's say that I don't mind listening to complicated and we've got plenty of time. So talk."

Their gazes locked, and although Danny wanted to look away and refuse to talk, he found that he couldn't. He shifted in the seat, trying to get comfortable as he realized that he wouldn't be leaving the coffee shop until Larabee had gotten an answer that satisfied him.

"My father." Danny found himself amazed that he'd gone most of his life managing to avoid talking about Miquel Alvarez, and now he found himself talking about the man for the third time in two days. "He was…an angry man. I don't know why he was always so angry, but he just was. And when he drank, it just seemed to make him angrier. It made him mean. He liked to hit us, Rafi, me, Mama…he didn't go out of his way to look for a target, he just hit whoever was closest at the time. When I was eleven, we were out and he and Mama were in the front seat, arguing about something. As usual, I was doing my best to try to ignore them. Most of the time, Raff would be there to provide a distraction, but he was off with his friends that evening."

Danny shrugged as he began to turn the coffee cup around. "I couldn't take it any more, and I yelled at them to stop it, to shut up. Papi reached back to slap me and drifted into the other lane. They said that he was killed instantly. Mama died not long after we were brought to the hospital. I spent weeks in the hospital, and during that time I made a vow to myself. Two vows, actually. The first that I'd never be a drunk like him, and the second that I'd never be like him. That I'd never enjoy hurting other people just because I could. I wanted to be a good man. In short, everything that he wasn't."

Danny took a gulp of the coffee, not caring that it was no longer hot. He needed to do something with his mouth and hands, anything to take his mind off of the desire to drink something else, something that would make him forget Miquel Alvarez and the heartache the bastard had left behind.

"Rafi and I were put into the system, but they weren't able to get us into the same places. Rafi went wild, and I tried to follow his lead, but got lucky by being busted and ordered to do some community service at a church, and the priest managed to get me in line. Then, I finally ended up with a family that really gave a damn and wasn't just into having foster kids for the money. The Taylors are wonderful people, and they opened their hearts and home to a lot of foster kids over the years. The first thing I did when I turned eighteen was to petition the court to have my name changed from Alvarez to Taylor. I didn't want any more reminders of my father, especially his name. I've taken some grief over that over the years, from people who think that I'm turning my back on my heritage, but I just ignore them. It's not my heritage that I turned my back on, but my father. And then I slowly broke my first promise. I started drinking and liked it. I liked that it made the memories fuzzy, that it made the pain not so intense."

Danny blew out a bit of air. "I guess I was what you'd call a functioning alcoholic. I went to classes, got good grades, socialized, and was pleasantly buzzed the whole time. If I got really anxious about something, I'd drink a bit more, but I handled it. Or so I thought. I graduated from college with really good grades and got into law school. I was in the top of my graduating class." Danny grinned at that, still proud of his accomplishment in law school, and Larabee grinned back and nodded. "And then it all went to Hell. I was on my way to take the bar exam, and nervous about it. I had a bottle in the car, and reached for it, not even thinking that I didn't need more to drink after what I'd already had that morning. I downed a few swallows and pulled out…right into the path of another car. Needless to say, I not only missed the bar exam, but got myself a DUI ticket, and community service and a fine as a result. I was damn lucky that I didn't get jail time, but they did take my license away for a year. I was also damn lucky that the person in the other car wasn't hurt, and the fact that I had done what my Papi had done hit me like a ton of bricks. I realized I had a problem and I got help for it, then I applied to the FBI and was accepted, and the rest is, as they say, history."

Danny finished his coffee, remembering how hard it had been to admit to himself that he was a drunk, just like Miquel had been. He also remembered the time he'd fallen off the wagon once he'd become an Agent, before he'd finally gotten his shit together and became determined to stay clean and sober.

"When you say something's complicated, you really mean it, don't you?" Larabee asked.

Danny looked sharply at him, expecting to see derision there, but instead he saw understanding. He shrugged. "I like to be truthful."

Larabee grinned, and then he looked serious. "I know what it's like to crawl into a bottle to try to forget the bad things, Danny. I'm lucky that I had a friend who kept me from drowning. I don't know what I'd have done or where I'd be now if not for Buck."

"You're right. You are lucky." Danny wondered if he would have listened to his friends if one of them had have tried to call him out on his drinking back before he crossed the line into alcoholism. Probably not. Then again, his friends back then weren't the kind of people who'd get in his face and force the issue. And from what Danny had seen of Buck Wilmington, he was definitely a 'get in your face' kind of man.

Larabee leaned forward and rested his arms on the table. "So, how does all of that relate to Martin?" 

"I've been attracted to Martin for a long time now, but I thought he was straight and not interested in me as anything but a friend. When you went missing, Martin was busy testifying in court, so he wasn't involved in the beginning of the investigation. Jack and I went to your hotel while Vivian and Samantha went to the convention center. I ended up with the job of interviewing Ron Bradley."

"The room service waiter." Larabee's expression didn't give anything away, and Danny found himself admiring the man's self-control.

"Yeah. Anyway, he was pretty graphic about what he'd witnessed in your room, and then got around to talking about Thursday night. When you shared Martin with him." That last part came out a bit harsher than Danny had intended, which was funny considering what he was about to admit. 

"Danny," Larabee looked directly at him. "Martin didn't do anything that he didn't want. And that includes what happened Thursday night."

Danny nodded sharply. "I don't know why it pisses me off now. You see, on Friday, when Bradley was telling me all about it, I couldn't help but imagine me in his place, and Martin in the place of the unknown guy you were with. I admired the way you, at least according to Bradley, knew what you wanted and wasn't afraid to go after it. I've played a bit with bondage and domination, and I like being in charge. But I've never had a partner like the one Bradley described. I fantasized a lot about being with Martin, and it was easy to imagine him that way. Anyway, to shorten this a bit, I got back to the office with the security tapes from the hotel lobby, so we could try to identify your partner, and Jack told me that I was going to Denver with Martin. At some point during the flight, Martin thought that he admitted to me that he was the guy you'd been with. I missed it. I thought he was talking about something else."

Danny was still kicking himself over that. Martin had to have been tied up in knots Saturday, and Danny could have been there for him, if only he'd have had some common sense during that flight. "Anyway, it wasn't until last night that I realized that you two had spent the week together. I didn't know how to feel about that. A part of me was jealous that Martin did like guys, but didn't like me. A part of me hated you for being with Martin. Things were tense, we argued, we apologized, and things seemed to fall back into place. We were watching the game on TV, and Martin fell asleep and I couldn't stop looking at him, and…"

Danny stopped and mentally scolded himself for making moves on Martin. If he'd only kept his hands to himself, then they wouldn't be in this position now. "One thing led to another, and we were getting into some heavy petting. I bit him, and it was hard enough to draw a bit of blood. It shocked me, because I felt satisfaction when I heard him gasp in pain. And I knew right then that I was pushing the line about breaking that second promise to myself."

Danny crushed the cup in his hand, then looked up at Larabee, glad to see that the man wasn't laughing at him. Instead he looked calm, just as he'd looked during the whole recital of Danny's fuck-ups. "I can't risk turning into my father, and Martin, well Martin obviously likes that kind of stuff. I can't trust that he'll stop me before I go too far, you know? So, I put an end to things before they ever really got started, and Martin's not being very understanding about it."

Larabee didn't say anything at all for a few moments. He just sat there and looked calmly at Danny, until Danny felt the urge to move around on his seat. He fought that urge though, but he was impressed that Larabee's gaze had that effect on him. The man was probably pretty damn effective in interrogations.

"Can I ask you something?" Larabee finally said.

"Sure." Danny didn't have anything left to hide, so why not continue to strip his soul bare to a man he barely knew?

"What were you thinking when you bit Martin? Were you thinking that you wanted to bite him, and so you did? Were you thinking that you needed to assert your authority over him and put him in his place? Were you thinking that if you didn't bite him, then you'd be tempted to throw a punch or two?" Larabee's voice was just as calm as the man had looked seconds ago, but now there was a look in the man's eyes that Danny couldn't read as being anything but dangerous.

"I was thinking that it wasn't a good thing that I enjoyed it, knowing that not only did I hurt Martin, but that he'd enjoyed being hurt," Danny said.

Larabee shook his head. "No. That's what you thought *after* you bit him. What were you thinking before you did it? What made you bite him, Danny?"

Danny took a deep breath and let his mind wander back to the scene in their hotel room. He'd had Martin flat on his back on the bed, his own arousal heightened by the fact that he could feel Martin's hard cock through his sweatpants. He began to kiss Martin, starting at his jaw, wanting to taste him and soothe away the bruises left by Larabee. As he made his way down Martin's body, Danny found himself pausing from time to time to leave his own marks. He wanted to leave proof that Martin was his, and his alone. Then there was the surge of jealousy that some other man had gotten to Martin first, and Danny had no choice but to look at the evidence of that claiming.

Danny shook his head slightly as he brought himself back to the present. He looked across at Larabee, the man who had done that claiming of Martin. The man who had left those marks and bruises behind.

"I was jealous of you. I didn't like it that you'd been with Martin before I'd had a chance to ever be with him. I wanted to leave my own marks behind, so that anyone who looked at Martin would know he belonged to me. I hurt him because I couldn't stand the thought of anyone else being with him."

It was Larabee's turn to shake his head, and Danny couldn't help but feel a little bit of irritation at the small smile on the other man's face. "No, Danny. You bit Martin because while you were leaving your mark behind, you imagined me and him together and couldn't handle it. I'll bet that you were just lightly nipping his skin, which made it pretty easy for you to bite down too hard when that image hit you. You'd interviewed Ron Bradley, you'd seen Martin's body. I don't think there was any doubt in your mind about what went on between the two of us. You didn't set out to hurt Martin, Danny. It was an accident. You're just lucky that Martin does like pain with his sex from time to time, and that he didn't belt you a good one for that bite."

Danny's first impulse was to insist that Larabee was wrong, that he *had* hurt Martin on purpose, but the more he thought about it, the more he could see that it had happened the way Larabee guessed. He hadn't meant to hurt Martin, it had been an accident. But the fear afterward, that was as much a fear of him turning into his father was it was a fear of hurting Martin. Larabee was right about something else, too. If Martin had felt truly harmed by the bite, he'd have either hit Danny or pushed him away. The fact that Martin did seem to like pain with his sex was scary, and that fear had also been in play when Danny had pushed Martin away. With his fear of turning into Miquel Alvarez, how could Danny ever hope to keep Martin satisfied? While they might love each other now, how soon would that hope fade when Martin found their sex life lacking? 

"You're right," Danny finally said. "I didn't hurt him on purpose. But I still can't risk being with him."

"Oh, for crying out loud!" Larabee shook his head as he sat back straighter in his chair. "You love him, he loves you, so what the Hell is the problem?"

"I told you about my father…"

"And you realized that you didn't hurt Martin on purpose, so I don't see how that's relevant now."

"How can I keep Martin satisfied without risking turning into my father?" Danny spat out, his patience gone. Larabee seemed to be about as stubborn as Martin on this.

It didn't help Danny's anger any when Larabee burst out laughing. "What?" Danny snapped, regretting going out for coffee with the man.

"Danny, it's not like that. You and Martin really need to talk. And I mean really talk. Ask him what he likes and when, and I think you'll be a bit surprised at how off the mark you're being right now. Christ, you're going on as if Martin's some 24/7 masochist or something. Do you really think that we spent all of our time doing nothing but that?"

"Considering that you refuse to talk about what the two of you did, I've got to rely on my imagination," Danny shot back, feeling even more defensive. "And since Ron Bradley's interview is all I have to go on, then my imagination is…"

"Running away with you." Larabee got to his feet and grabbed both his now empty coffee cup as well as Danny's mangled one. "Talk with him. Ask him questions. Hell, Danny, I don't know just what Vin's gonna want, but I'm sure as Hell not going to let my imagination keep me from finding out. Now, let's get that Thai and get back, because the sooner Martin and I talk, the sooner you and Martin can talk. And I've got a phone call to make to a sexy, blue-eyed Texan back in Denver."

Danny tried to hold onto his anger, but Larabee's grin and words went far to make that anger go away. Danny got to his feet. "We've got to remember to get Pad Thai with chicken. That, along with the crab Rangoon, is another one of Martin's favorites. If I'm going to be prying into his personal life, then I'm going to have to soften him up really well ahead of time."

Larabee laughed, "That's the ticket, Danny." He headed toward the door, pausing long enough at the entrance to toss their cups into the trash bin that stood to one side. "You might want to consider feeding him, too."

They stepped out onto the sidewalk. "I'm buying the food," Danny said, confused since he'd thought that Larabee knew this was his treat.

"I don't mean providing the food," Larabee's eyes were dancing with glee right then. "I meant feeding him as in putting the food into his mouth…or maybe letting him eat off of your body…or you eating off of his body. Be creative with your food, Danny."

Danny laughed. "Sounds more like being creative with Martin."

"That, too," Larabee said, sending a smirk in Danny's direction.

Danny led the way to the restaurant, the two of them making small talk. Once there, Larabee ordered what he wanted, and Danny ordered the rest, and they continued to chat as they waited for the food.

"You know, I'm beginning to wonder if your friends were pulling my leg back in Denver," Danny commented. They were seated just inside the door, where they could see the rest of the dining room but not be in the way of the servers.

"How so?" Larabee asked.

"They said you were a quiet man. That you didn't speak unless you had something really important to say. One even commented that on a good day, they were lucky to get more than three or four words out of you."

Larabee grinned. "I know that Vin's the one who said that."

Danny smiled and nodded. "And yet today, you've said a lot more than four words."

Larabee turned his head to look more fully at Danny, the grin gone from his face. "Well, when I have something important to say, I say it."

"So that means that Martin's important to you?" Danny asked. He wondered if he'd even get an answer to that, since Larabee had seemed reluctant to talk about his and Martin's relationship.

"Yes."

They looked at each other for a few moments, and Danny smiled again. "I have to agree with you about that."

Larabee slowly grinned. "Good. Shows that you're a man of good character."

"Because I think that Martin's important?"

Larabee nodded. "Well that, and the fact that you agree with me."

Danny snorted. "Or maybe you're the one agreeing with me?"

"Could be, could be." Larabee seemed to be considering that and then he shook his head. "Nah. More like you agreeing with me. We might be in different agencies, but I am a Senior Agent in Charge, so my opinion automatically carries more weight."

Danny was trying to decide between being amused or feeling insulted when the hostess returned with their order. After making sure that everything they'd ordered was in the bags, Danny and Larabee headed back to Martin's apartment.

"Does that place usually short your order?" Larabee asked, referring to Danny checking the bags.

"Never. But I've had to grab so much food on the run and been shorted enough that I don't trust anyone. Nothing like being on a stake-out, finally getting your food and then discovering that they only sent one order instead of two. Jack's nice, and will share with you, so will Vivian. Martin and Samantha though…" Danny grinned as he shook his head. "They'll stab you with their sporks if you even look at their food. There was one time when I thought Martin offered me half of his sandwich. That saying about 'if looks could kill' definitely entered my mind then."

"Vin can be that territorial over food," Larabee replied.

Danny grinned. "I noticed that Saturday night when we were all at dinner. Martin and Vin reached for the same stuffed mushroom and I thought they were going to stare down each other all night long. Vin won, but only because Jack called to let us know that you'd been found."

Larabee laughed. "I can only imagine that scene." Larabee then came to a stop, and the smile faded. "There's something going on at Martin's building."

Danny looked down the street and saw three police cruisers parked in the middle of what looked to be Martin's block. The lights were still on, but he hadn't heard any sirens. He then noticed that they were all facing him, obviously having come from the other direction, which explained why he hadn't heard anything. The other alternative to not hearing them approach was if they'd been ordered to approach quietly.

"C'mon." Danny hurried his pace over the few remaining blocks, not caring if Larabee kept up or not. If there was something big going down, then it would be just like Martin to get involved, and Danny didn't think that Martin was yet thinking clear enough to be of any constructive use in any kind of a police situation.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date originally published: April 18, 2009

As Danny and Larabee reached Martin's block, a police cruiser pulled up, and the officers rushed out of their car and into Martin's building. Damn. Danny had been hoping that all those police had been there for something at the building next door.

Danny entered the lobby and found it crowded with blue uniforms. The highest ranking officer there, a sergeant, noticed Danny and Larabee. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to wait outside."

Danny felt a surge of panic as he remembered how he always kept his badge in the inside pocked of his suit jacket. And that was back in Martin's apartment, along with his overnight bag. 

"That's okay. We're both Federal Officers." Larabee said, showing his badge and ID to the sergeant. "Danny's with the FBI, and his badge is upstairs in the apartment. Show him your ID, Danny."

Feeling grateful to Larabee for his quick action, Danny pulled out his driver's license. He should have felt some relief when the police officer nodded, accepting the identification and obviously believing Larabee. But there was no way to feel relief when he was clueless as to what was going on inside the building.

"What's going on?" Larabee asked.

"We got a call reporting a gun being fired. The caller wasn't too clear on if it was on the fourth or fifth floor. Once we get a few more officers here, we'll be heading to both floors for a door to door sweep. Hopefully it'll be a false alarm, but…Agent Taylor, wait…"

Danny rushed up the stairs with only one thing on his mind. Martin lived on the fourth floor, and he had a gun and wasn't in the best state of mind at the moment. Danny feared that he'd get into Martin's apartment and find his partner on the floor, bleeding or dead. "Please God, don't let him be dead."

Danny's heart was pounding loudly in his ears, and the sound of his footsteps seemed to echo in the stairwell, quickly synching up with his heart beat. It wasn't until he reached Martin's door that Danny realized that Larabee had come running up the stairs after him.

"Danny, stop and think before you go barging inside," Larabee said as Danny fumbled with Martin's door key.

"I am thinking, Chris. I'm thinking that Martin's been through Hell this weekend, and was drunker than I've ever seen him. He probably hasn't gotten all of that out of his system, and then we were…and he's got a gun in there…and damn this key!"

Danny was breathing hard by then, mostly from his sprint up four flights of stairs, but also from fear. Larabee pushed him aside and took the key. "Martin wouldn't eat his gun," he said, his voice firm. With a twist, Larabee had the lock undone, and this time he was the one being pushed aside as Danny forced his way past him and into the apartment.

It was mostly dark inside, with the only light coming from the bathroom, just as it had been before. Where was Martin? Oh, God, where was Martin? Dropping his bag of take-out onto the nearest surface, Danny headed toward the closed bedroom door, his stomach doing flips as he anticipated what he'd find on the other side.

 

Martin had quickly fallen asleep, but found himself jerking awake. He sat up in the bed, cocking his head to one side as he listened for something out of the ordinary. There had to have been some reason why he'd awoken so suddenly, and since he couldn't remember dreaming, he figured that it had to have been a noise of some kind. But when the only thing that Martin could hear was the normal hum of the city outside his windows, he decided that it must have been something trivial, such as a car alarm going off, or someone shouting out in the hallway the way Danny had been doing earlier.

Martin frowned. Maybe Danny was back and it was his pounding on the door that had awakened him? If so, then that was yet one more reason for Martin to be pissed off with the guy. Well, if it was Danny out there creating a scene, then Martin wanted no part of it. He reached over and grabbed his music player out of the nightstand drawer, then put on the small earphones. He turned on the player, and as the sounds of his favorite band filled his ears, he curled back down under the covers and closed his eyes, determined to not lose this round with his partner.

Martin had just reached that place between being awake and drifting off to sleep when he was once more rudely awakened. Only this time, instead of being awakened by an unidentifiable noise, Martin found himself being grabbed and hauled into an upright position.

Needless to say, this caused a jolt of panic mixed with fear to run through him, and as he opened his eyes, he had no idea who he'd be looking at. Would it be someone there to rob him or someone out to kidnap him? All he knew was that he wasn't sure if his father would let Jack run the investigation, or if he'd take control of it until Martin was either home safe or dead.

With that thought in mind, Martin was surprised to see Danny there in front of him, looking more scared than Martin had ever seen him look. Danny had Martin by the biceps, and he was speaking, but Martin couldn't hear him.

"What the fuck?" Martin tried to free himself, but the more he struggled, the tighter Danny's grip became. "Let go of me."

Danny's eyes were flitting over Martin's body, and came to a stop at Martin's ear. Danny's grip eased off then, and Martin wasted no time in freeing his right arm and removing the ear buds. "What the Hell is wrong with you?"

"Where's your gun?" Danny asked, his face still pale and his breathing sounding labored to Martin's ears. When Martin didn't answer, Danny once more grabbed his arms, shaking him and aggravating his not quite gone headache. "Where. Is. Your. Gun?"

As Martin tried to answer, he found himself thinking that Danny was asking a good question, because he had no idea where his gun was. "I don't know. Wherever you or Jack put it when you put me to bed, I guess. Why? Danny, what's wrong?"

Danny moved quickly, leaving the bedroom at a near run. Martin remained seated on the bed, rubbing his upper arms and wondering how long it would take for the bruises to appear. And he had no doubt at all that there'd be bruising. He'd been held before with less pressure and had the bruises to show for it.

When Danny didn't immediately return, Martin got to his feet and left the bedroom. The first thing he noticed was that the lights were on in the living room. The second thing he noticed was that Chris was there, too, watching Danny as he knelt by an overnight bag a few feet from the front door. Danny had the bag open and was yanking clothing out of it, muttering to himself in Spanish.

Martin eased over beside Chris. "What's going on?"

"Someone called 911 to report hearing a shot in the building, either on this floor or the one above it," Chris evenly replied, although his gaze never left Danny.

Martin frowned. That must have been the sound that had awakened him before. But he still didn't understand Danny shaking him awake and demanding to know where his gun was, unless Danny suspected that someone had broken in and stolen his weapon.

"So, my door was open or something?" Martin asked. That would explain how they'd gotten back inside, and also why Danny was so panicked. Having ones service weapon stolen and then used during the commission of a crime was a big fear in law enforcement circles, right behind having some perp get the drop on you.

Chris finally looked at him, shaking his head. "No." 

"Got it!" Danny shouted and he eased himself into a sitting position on the floor, Martin's Glock in his hand. 

"Good." Martin walked over to Danny and reached down, waiting for him to give him the weapon. "I'll go and lock it away."

"I don't think that's a good idea right now," Danny said, holding the gun close to his body. "Maybe after dinner."

"It's my weapon, Danny, hand it over." Martin didn't understand Danny's reluctance to give him the gun. It obviously hadn't been stolen, so if someone had fired a gun in his building, then they hadn't used his gun. "And isn't that your bag? What's my gun doing in your bag?"

"I took it from you when we left the hotel for the airport. Your badge, too." Danny said. "It just didn't seem safe to let someone as drunk as you were to be armed."

Martin couldn't really argue with that logic. But he'd slept all that off and wanted to put his gun under lock and key. "Well, I'm sober now, so give it here so I can lock it up."

"After dinner," Danny repeated, and he turned his head to look at Chris for a moment, and he looked back up at Martin. "We brought Thai back. You hungry?"

Martin wasn't sure if the confused feeling that he had was due to his lingering headache or to the fact that Danny was acting strangely. And that was putting it nicely. Danny had said 'we', which implied that he and Chris had gone out and gotten the food together. Martin looked over at Chris, who simply smiled and offered no additional explanation.

Martin returned his gaze to Danny, his mind still working to find the missing pieces from this scene. Danny had awoken him, looking scared…there was something wrong there aside from Danny's fear. Then it hit Martin. They'd come back into the apartment when he knew that the door had locked after he'd pushed them into the hallway. He couldn't remember using the security chain, but since they were standing in his living room, it was pretty obvious that he'd overlooked that important step. That meant that they had either picked his lock, which he knew Danny could do, or Danny had his keys. A quick glance around the living room didn't reveal the keys, so Martin decided to go with the latter option.

Martin walked over to the door and reached for the knob. "Yes, I'm hungry. Thank you for bringing food, but I can make my own. Now take yours and leave." He pulled the door open and then waited for Danny to get to his feet and for he and Chris to leave again. "And you can leave my gun and keys behind."

Neither man moved, although they were looking at him. Or rather, past him. Martin turned slightly and looked into the hallway. A uniformed police officer stood there, looking from the gun-wielding Danny to Martin and then back again, his own hand hovering near his service revolver.

"Is everything all right here, sir?" the officer asked.

Martin was so tempted to say that things were not okay, and then let the chips fall where they may, but he held his tongue. He really wanted to see how Danny was going to explain himself to the officer in light of the fact that someone from the building had called to report hearing a gunshot.

Danny looked from the officer to Martin, the look in his eyes clearly beseeching Martin to do something to help him out. Maybe, if he wasn't pissed off with Danny, Martin might have given in to that silent request. But, considering that Martin was still slightly pissed at both Danny and Chris, he wasn't feeling too generous right then.

Martin looked back at the officer. "I really can't say, officer. According to him," Martin waved his hand in Danny's general direction, "I'm probably still too drunk to be trusted, so I don't think you can take my word on much of anything. But I can tell you that I was in bed, minding my own business and trying to take a nap when I found myself being shaken awake by the man on the floor. He was most interested in the location of my weapon, which he's holding. And yes, I'm legally entitled to carry it." Martin smiled at the officer and extended his hand, "Special Agent Martin Fitzgerald, FBI."

Martin knew that he'd have to produce his badge, identification and gun registration and license, but that was a small price to pay considering all of the entertainment and satisfaction that he was going to get out of watching Danny and Chris being grilled by the cops.

"I see." The officer looked to one side and motioned to someone to come over to where he was. Then he stepped into the apartment, putting himself between Martin and the other two men. Seconds later, another officer appeared in the doorway, nodding once at Martin before giving Danny an appraising look. It was a look that Martin knew all too well, where you gauged just how dangerous someone could be to you and those around you. It gave him a rush of satisfaction to see Danny put under that kind of microscope.

Now that his back up had arrived, the first officer gave his full attention to Danny. "Put the weapon on the floor and back away from it slowly."

Danny chuffed in what Martin thought must be annoyance, but he did as instructed. Chris, meanwhile, was still standing there, grinning. The officer picked up the gun and smelled it. "It hasn't been fired recently," he told the other officer. "Why don't you take these two into the hallway. I'll interview Agent Fitzgerald."

"Right." The other officer motioned to Danny and Chris. "Come on. We can wait at the stairwell."

"Look, there's obviously a misunderstanding here. I'm also an FBI Agent, and I work with Martin," Danny said as he scrambled to his feet. "When I heard that someone had reported a gun being fired on this floor, I feared that Martin had done something drastic, which is why I was insistent on finding his weapon and securing it. Chris and I just arrived a few minutes ago. He's also a Federal Agent, with the ATF. Chris Larabee."

The first officer looked at Danny and Chris, then back to Martin and then back to Danny, disbelief on his features. It was that moment when Martin remembered that he was shirtless, and had neglected to put a bandage on his bite wound before taking his nap. No wonder the cops were looking at them all a bit oddly. Martin had to hold back his own grin at that. If they only knew how he'd gotten all of those marks, they'd be falling all over themselves to get away.

"We'll go over that, sir. Now, please step into the hallway with Officer Turner."

Danny looked as if he wanted to argue some more, and Chris had lost that amused look and was instead looking a bit angry, but they both followed Officer Turner into the hallway. Once they were out of the apartment, the first officer closed the door.

He looked intently at Martin. "I'm Officer Olds. Now that they're gone, we can talk. Did they hurt you?"

Martin shook his head, "No. This…" he motioned toward his own body, "…mostly happened last week and this weekend. You're going to want to see my badge and other papers, correct?"

The police officer kept looking intently at him, then nodded as he seemed to accept Martin's explanation. It had only been half a lie, so Martin thought he'd probably pulled it off. "I'll need to see your badge, some identification, and the papers for your weapon."

"Right." Martin stepped over to Danny's overnight bag and looked inside. Since Danny had nearly emptied the bag, his badge was clearly visible near the bottom. Martin pulled it out and handed it to the officer.

"My paperwork and driver's license are in the bedroom. I'll be right back."

It didn't take long for Martin to find the other items, and he also took the time to pull on a fresh T-shirt. Officer Olds seemed satisfied that all was well with Martin and his weapon, but not as satisfied that Martin was all right and that Danny and Chris, separately or together, had not hurt him.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date originally published: April 19, 2009

Ten minutes and a lot of talking on Martin's part, later, Officer Olds left the apartment, his suspicions finally allayed. Martin locked the door behind him, securing the chain this time since Danny had neglected to leave his keys behind. That pissed Martin off even more, since the key for his lock box was on that key ring and he couldn't put his weapon away.

Taking a deep breath of the delicious aroma that had been wafting around his apartment since he'd first come out of the bedroom, Martin decided that he'd go on and eat the food the guys had brought. He grabbed the bag off of the side table and headed for the kitchen so he could see just what they'd selected. Once there, he got the nice surprise of finding another bag of food. They'd been sincere in bringing dinner for him. For them.

Martin felt a pang of guilt over the fact that he was standing there and contemplating eating without them, keeping them locked out in fact, and they'd gone to all the trouble of buying food that he liked. Oh, he knew that it was bribery, but he was hungry and was willing to deal with that later. They'd even gotten chopsticks, which Martin hoped meant that they hadn't planned to use plates, but had wanted to eat out of the containers.

Shaking his head slightly, Martin decided to let them join him for dinner, and he headed back into the living room. He was almost to the door when he heard someone inserting a key into it, and then it was roughly pushed open.

"I swear I'm going to fucking tan your hide for that…what the Hell?" Danny's voice cut off as the door came to an abrupt stop and the chain pulled taut. "Martin! Dammit, let us in!"

Martin grinned and approached the door. "My key first."

"I'm not in the mood for this, Martin. We just spent ten minutes being interrogated…"

"Give him the damn key, Danny." Martin could hear Chris's voice, but he didn't see him, and he stepped closer until the man came into view. Neither man looked happy, and that just made Martin's grin even broader.

"Yeah, give me the damn key, Danny. I still have to secure my weapon, something that I'd asked to be able to do before all this started. Oh hey, maybe if you'd have given me my weapon back when I asked for it, and let me put it away, this could have all been avoided."

"Fuck you," Danny spat out, but he at least shoved the key ring through the gap. 

"We tried that once. You chickened out, remember?" Martin said as he took the keys from him. "Be right back."

"Martin! Let us in! Damn you!"

Martin ignored Danny's ranting as he took his weapon to the bedroom and put it and the ammo clip away. Once he was satisfied that everything was in its place, Martin put his keys on the nightstand and returned to the living room. 

Danny was pushed up against the door, his arm snaked through the opening as he tried to undo the chain from the inside side of the door. 

"It's sad when a Federal Agent is reduced to breaking and entering, isn't it? Back up so I can unlock the door."

Danny scowled at him, but pulled his arm back through and took a step back. Martin pushed the door closed and undid the chain, then opened the door and stood to one side. "Come on in. The food's getting cold, so we should eat now."

"We should take the food and leave," Danny was practically snarling as he entered the apartment. Martin knew it was wrong, but he just couldn't help but chuckle over it.

"Don't." Danny waved his finger in Martin's direction. "After the ten minutes from Hell that we just spent with Officer Turner, just don't. I swear, I was half-tempted to tell him exactly how you got those marks on your body."

"Why not?" Martin asked, trying his best to suppress his smirk. "I told Officer Olds about them."

Danny turned toward Chris, who wasn't yet to the point of snarling, as Danny was, but Martin could see that the man was close to the limits of his patience. A few days ago, he would have cared about that, but not today. Well, at least not right then. Maybe later.

"I told you he was out to get us, didn't I?" That finger of Danny's was wagging all over the place, and Martin quickly shut and locked the door before that finger started poking at him.

He'd no sooner closed the door than Chris had him by the arm and was pulling him toward the sofa. "Go to the bathroom or wherever it is that Martin keeps his antiseptic and bandages and bring them back here. You bit him, it's up to you to treat it and make sure that it heals properly."

Okay, so Chris's bad mood was more aimed toward Danny than him, Martin thought. He could live with that. Then Chris pushed him down onto the couch. "Take off your shirt and just stay quiet."

"Stay quiet? I don't…" Martin was cut off as Chris placed his hand over Martin's mouth, a little rougher than he probably should have, at least in Martin's opinion.

"Just. Be. Quiet."

Chris moved his hand away, and Martin wanted to argue the point, since it was *his* apartment after all, and he should be allowed to talk in his own home. But he'd seen that look in Chris's eyes before. Granted it was just one time, but it, and what had happened when Martin had pressed the issue then, made him hesitate to argue with Chris now. Yes, he liked being spanked, but as part of sex and not as a true punishment.

"Now, take off your shirt and lay back so Danny can put the bandage on that bite." Chris's glare spoke a lot more than his words did, and Martin quickly pulled off the T-shirt, knowing that he'd really be walking on the razor's edge if he tried Chris's patience any more than necessary.

Danny returned to the living room, a box of bandages in one hand and the antibiotic ointment in the other. He stopped at the end of the couch, watching as Martin stretched out on his back. He didn't look as angry, and Martin thought that was probably a good thing since the man was supposed to be rubbing that cream over his wound, and he didn't think that an angry Danny would be as gentle as he could be while doing so.

"Get over here and take care of him," Chris said, his glare shifting from Martin to Danny. "One of the cardinal rules, Danny, is that if you hurt your sub, then it's your responsibility to take care of him."

"Yeah, yeah. I already had the lecture from Jack on this." Danny sounded defiant, but he didn't step any closer to Martin or Chris. Martin tried to determine which seemed to be the oddest, that Jack had lectured Danny about something like that, or that Danny seemed to be reluctant to come near him. Maybe it was Chris he didn't want to be near, the closeness they'd apparently achieved while Martin had been napping now gone after their time together in the hallway.

Chris reached out and grabbed Danny by the arm and pulled him over to where Martin was. "Sit down and wait here. You'll need to clean the wound first."

Chris headed for the bathroom, and as Danny slowly sat down on the coffee table, Martin could hear water being run in the other room.

Martin turned his head and looked up at Danny. "What did you do to piss him off so badly?"

Danny seemed to choke, or maybe he breathed wrong, because he had to cough before he could answer. And when Danny did talk, Martin realized that he must have asked the wrong thing, because that finger was going again, punctuating the air several times despite the grip Danny had on the tube of ointment.

"Me? What did *I* do to piss him off? I'm not the one who had the local cops escort the two of us into the hallway where they proceeded to stare at us as if we were the scum of the earth and not deserving to breathe the same air. No, it definitely wasn't me. If Chris is pissed off, then you need to be lookin' in the mirror, Martin."

Martin struggled upright, resting on his elbows as he glared at Danny. "Excuse me for thinking that I had a right to privacy in my own home, Taylor. And for having the silly idea that it was my responsibility to ensure that my weapon was securely under lock and key."

Danny looked as if he was about to argue, but Chris returned then, with a wet wash cloth and a towel. 

"Down," Chris ordered as he tossed the cloth onto Martin's belly. Martin gasped slightly since the cloth had been soaked in hot water, but he obeyed Chris as quickly as his dignity would allow.

"Wash the bite, then dry it. And be gentle." Chris instructed Danny. He then lifted Martin's legs, sat down at the other end of the couch and let Martin's legs rest in his lap. "Go on, we haven't got all day here, Danny. As Martin said before, the food's gettin' cold and I'd like to eat."

Chris didn't sound as pissed off as he had before, and Martin was glad of that. If only Danny would calm down, then dinner might actually be a pleasant experience.

Danny seemed a bit reluctant as he put the bandage box and ointment aside and reached out for the wash cloth. Chris though, kept on talking.

"While we were out, we realized that things can't stay as they are, Martin. You and I need to discuss what we're going to do now that you've met Vin and he's more or less indicated that he's in love with me. And then you and Danny need to have a long talk about what happened last night and where the two of you are going to go from here. Although," Chris grinned down at Martin, "If recent events are anything to go by, the two of you should either be fucking wildly before the day is over or killing each other."

Martin grinned. "I'm all in favor of the wild fucking…ouch!" Danny would have to pick that moment to drag the roughest part of the wash cloth over the most sensitive area of the bite wound. Martin frowned up at Danny, who seemed to be doing his best to keep his attention on Martin's belly and nowhere else.

Chris chuckled, then reached over and lightly punched Danny in the arm. "Gentle, remember? You want him to want to play with you again, not go running when he sees you."

"I'm pretty sure that I'll always want to play with Danny," Martin protested.

"Yeah, I know," Chris said, his tone almost gentle as he began to lightly massage both of Martin's calves. "And while that attitude is one of the things I love about you, it's also one of the things that scares the shit out of Danny."

Danny glanced sharply at Chris, then he returned his gaze to Martin's skin. His touch though, did seem gentler now. But there was something besides Danny's touch that had caught Martin's interest. Chris had actually used the word love, and that didn't make much sense at all to him. Despite Buck Wilmington's beliefs to the contrary, Martin was now pretty sure that Chris had only picked him for a sex partner because he looked like Vin. It stung, but not as much as it had hurt when he'd first met Vin Tanner. But, despite Chris's motives in asking Martin back to his hotel room, Martin knew that they did need to talk about the future, because if he was related to Vin Tanner in some way, then they'd see each other again, and there couldn't be anything between them. Martin wouldn't dream of coming between Chris and Vin.

Martin felt conflicted. He wanted to hear what it was that Chris wanted to do about them and the future, but he also wanted to know more about what it was Danny feared. He remembered all too clearly Danny saying that he didn't trust Martin to tell him if he got too rough, and supposed that was what Chris meant. If so, then that meant that Danny and Chris really had done one Hell of a job of bonding in such a short time. It also meant that Danny really didn't trust him, and that hurt. At the time, Martin had thought that Danny was exaggerating to make a point. True, it had hurt a bit at the time, but the thought that it wasn't really meant had lessened that pain. The pain and hurt over that had eased, but not gone completely away. Now though, Martin wasn't sure what to think or feel.

If was safer to talk about him and Chris, Martin decided. He looked at Chris, "So let's talk. I'll even let you start."

"Mighty polite of you," Chris commented with a smirk.

Martin grinned back. "My parents raised me to be polite."

Danny dropped the wet wash cloth to the floor and softly drew the towel over the wound, drying it. Chris seemed to be more intent on watching Danny than talking, but Martin didn't really feel like pushing him to talk. What Danny was doing felt nice, almost too nice. Come to think of it, Chris's hands seemed to be moving upward, because he was now massaging the area just below Martin's knees. Maybe he should push things, provided talking would distract Chris from what he was doing. At the rate things were going, Martin was going to be hard as a rock, and he doubted if wild fucking was really on the agenda for later. Or any time in the near future.

Martin opened his mouth to ask Chris just what he wanted to talk about, but Chris spoke first, directing Danny on what to do. "Smear the anti-bacterial ointment on the bandage, then apply it. Make sure that all of the adhesive edges are touching his skin."

Chris looked back at Martin. "As for us, I think we need to be honest with Vin. According to Danny, he already knows that I was with a guy last week, and I don't see any reason in keeping your identity a secret."

Martin's eyebrows rose as he considered Chris's words. On one hand, he agreed with the man that it was best to be honest. On the other hand, he knew how used he felt when he'd first seen Vin, and now that there was a chance that Vin might be a relative, he couldn't help but think that Vin would feel horribly betrayed.

"You don't agree?" Chris asked, his expression not giving Martin any hints as to how Chris felt about that.

"I'm not sure," Martin replied. He winced slightly as Danny applied the bandage, the cool of the ointment a small shock against skin that had been warmed with the wash cloth. "On one hand, I agree with you. It would be a difficult secret to keep, especially if Vin and I do turn out to be related and keep seeing each other. On top of that, Buck knows about us, too. Now, I don't know how good he is at keeping secrets, but…" Martin shrugged, and Chris didn't offer any insight as to how close-mouthed Wilmington might be.

The bandage now in place, Danny got to his feet and picked up the debris from the short first-aid course, then headed toward the bathroom, still silent. Feeling both relieved and saddened that Danny was no longer touching him, Martin pulled his legs away from Chris and swung them around as he got into a seated position in the middle of the couch. He picked up his T-shirt and put it back on, glad to have yet another layer between himself and the two men he knew could undo him with just a touch or a look.

"And on the other hand?" Chris finally asked.

"On the other hand, I remember how it felt when I saw Vin for the first time, how betrayed and used I felt. He knows you were with someone, and now he's met me. He's going to be shocked and maybe even feel betrayed when he learns the truth. He might love you now, but are you willing to risk losing that if he can't handle it?"

Chris looked thoughtful, then he shook his head. "I can't see that happening with him. If he ends up feeling betrayed, then it'll be him feeling that way about you, not me. I could see it happening if he'd met you before you and I ever did anything. But Vin's fair enough to not hold it against me that I spent time with you, Martin. He is however, sensitive enough, and don't ever tell him that I even hinted at him bein' sensitive, to feel hurt about you not telling him about us when you were in Denver."

Martin smiled slightly when Chris said that Vin was sensitive. He often felt the same way about Danny, and knew that Danny would argue the point if Martin ever bothered pointing out that he could be sensitive at times. It stung a little though, when Chris pointed out that if Vin was going to feel betrayed by anyone, it would be him. Deep down he knew Chris was right about that, and as Martin remembered how easily Vin had laughed at the jokes his teammates were telling at dinner, he hated the idea of being the person who put pain in those eyes. 

"Even knowing that you met me before I met him, Vin's still going to second-guess things, Chris," Martin said, hoping to explain things better this time around. "I know he's going to feel as if I was deliberately lying to him, and that's something the two of us will deal with when the time comes. But, at the time, I really thought that Danny had told Vin about you and me, and since Vin wasn't bringing it up, I just followed his lead. And another thing, is that you've got to see how it might look to Vin, Chris. He knows you spent a week with another guy. He met me, and knows we look alike. Then you're going to come home, ready to tell him that you love him, and oh, by the way, the guy you had been with just happened to be the Fed he met over the weekend. Do you really expect him to believe you at first? To believe that you really and truly love him and aren't just glad to have him handy because he looks like me and loves you?"

The sound of a heavy sigh caught Martin's attention, and he glanced up to see Danny standing behind the couch, a saddened look in his eyes and on his face. "Martin, why is it so hard for you to belief that Chris cares for you and wasn't using you as a replacement for someone else?"

"That wasn't what I said, Danny. I said that…"

"Shush." Chris placed his fingers over Martin's mouth, softly silencing him. "I know what you said, and you've got a point. I'll just do what I have to do to prove to Vin that I loved him before now. Just as I'll do what I have to do to prove to you that you were never a substitute for Vin, not in my bed and not in my heart. When I asked you to go back to the hotel with me, I was asking Martin. I wasn't asking some guy who just happened to look like the guy I loved."

Danny had come around to the front of the couch as Chris had been speaking, and he sat down on Martin's other side, but he didn't say anything else.

Chris removed his fingers. "Let me ask you something. At any time during this past week, did I ever call you Vin?"

Martin shook his head, unable to recall a single incident of that happening. He did feel half tempted to bring up the time that Chris had called him 'Junior', but since that was such a popular term for a younger man, Martin was willing to give Chris a pass on that one. There was no need for Chris to think that he'd slipped up and used one of Vin's nicknames while speaking to him.

"And be honest with me. At any time during this past week, did you ever think of Danny when you and I were…well, when we were enjoying each other's company?"

Martin noticed Danny shifting positions but he didn't dare look at his partner. While there had been times when he'd thought of Danny, those times had not been when he and Chris were fucking, or doing other pleasurable things. No, Danny would enter his thoughts before something like that happened, or shortly afterward, more as a wish that it could have been Danny and not Chris. But during? Never. 

Martin shook his head. "No. I always knew who I was with."

Chris smiled and nodded. "And I always knew who I was with, Martin. My intent had been to pick up a stranger, but that went right out the window when I asked you to come back. By Friday morning, I felt as if I knew everything there was to know about you, and yet I was still planning on leaving here with us not knowing the other's last names. I wanted you to be a pleasant and wonderful memory. But, things changed, didn't they? We know names now, and you've met my team, and Vin. And I've met your team, and Danny. You've loved Danny for a while now, right?"

Martin nodded. He could see where Chris was going with this, and the feelings of being a pale substitute for Vin Tanner began to fade away. Chris had wanted him, Martin Fitzgerald, and had been with him. It was true that Chris loved Vin, just as it was true that Martin loved Danny. But during the week they'd shared, neither man had known that their love was returned. It would always be a special memory for Martin.

"I have. And I see where you're taking this. Me loving Danny didn't keep me from going out and finding pleasure where I could. Just as you being in love with Vin didn't keep you from doing the same thing. It doesn't mean that we were using the other as a substitute for who we thought we could never have."

Chris smiled. "Exactly. So, you're okay with me telling Vin about you?"

Martin nodded. "Yeah, I am. There's just one problem."

Chris's smile faltered. "And that is?"

"Well, we're being honest here, right?" Chris nodded, and from his other side, Martin could tell that Danny was also nodding. "Well, as you probably noticed when you showed up earlier, I have a difficult time resisting you. There's no way that you or I can assure Vin that nothing will ever happen again between us. Well, maybe you can. But I can't."

Martin heard Danny's sharp intake of breath and he knew that his words had hurt the other man. He felt badly about hurting him like that, but it was the truth, and needed to be said. Martin wasn't going to make promises that would be all too easy to break. 

Chris reached over and lightly brushed the backs of his fingers against Martin's cheek. The contact sent a shiver through Martin, and he could see Chris's eyes change hue as they looked intently at each other. "I know," Chris said. "But I can assure Vin that I won't go out of my way to seek you out. And I don't think you'd have a problem making that same kind of promise."

"No," Martin softly agreed as he reluctantly pulled away from Chris's touch. "I wouldn't have a problem making that promise." 

Chris lowered his hand, but he was smiling once more. "Then that's settled, right?"

Martin nodded, although he already missed the warmth of Chris's touch.

"Good. Let's eat. I don't know about anyone else, but I'm starving."

Martin got to his feet, stepping around Danny's legs to get around the coffee table. "Me, too. I put the bags in the kitchen." He did feel a lot better about things with Chris now, but there was still Danny to deal with. Martin definitely needed to have that headache fully gone before then, and was confident that getting food in his belly would do the job. "I'll grab the drinks if you guys will set out the food. I've got beer, soda, water and juice."

"Soda for me," Danny said, and Martin felt pleasantly pleased with himself because he'd known that Danny would choose that.

"Chris?" Martin asked as he headed for the kitchen.

"Nothing for me. I'm just going to grab what I ordered and head back to the hotel," he sounded inordinately pleased with himself. "I think that I'll just be in the way while you two talk."

Danny nodded, and Martin felt conflicted yet again. On one hand, he was glad that Chris was going, because the man was just too much of a distraction, and he did want to be alone with Danny. On the other hand, he had no clue as to what would happen once he and Danny were finally alone.

"Well, you should take a drink with you," Martin said, resorting to polite manners in the face of his own uncertainty.

"Beer then," Chris said as he stepped past Martin and went into the kitchen.

As Danny reached him, Martin turned to go into the kitchen as well. Chris was at the counter, looking through containers, trying to find his order, Martin thought. Opening the refrigerator, Martin pulled out two sodas and one beer, which he handed to Chris.

Passing one of the sodas off to Danny, Martin stood with his back against the refrigerator. His kitchen was on the small side, and the quarters were close enough when two people were in it. They were even worse with three people, although Danny and Chris didn't seem to mind as Danny squeezed his way in and went to help Chris with the food. Of course, squeezing his way in meant that Danny had to brush up against Martin, and that, coupled with having both men touching him earlier, was almost too much for his body to handle right then.

"I'll be in the living room," Martin said as he made a hasty retreat. Even though Danny and Chris knew that they could easily get him hard, Martin didn't really want them looking at the evidence. He could hear whispering behind him as he left the room, and wondered if they'd even noticed that he'd spoken, let alone that he'd left the room.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date originally published: April 19, 2009

Martin flopped down on the couch, then winced as that movement jarred his head and reminded him that his headache wasn't completely gone. Chris came out of the kitchen then, a broad grin on his face as he approached Martin. He had a closed bag in his hand, and Martin hoped that he'd gotten enough food as the bag didn't look nearly large enough in his opinion.

Chris set the bag down on the coffee table and then came to stand right in front of him. "I just wanted to say goodbye properly," Chris said. "Hell, I really want to say goodbye improperly, but…"

Martin grinned as he looked up into Chris's smiling eyes. "Me, too. You be careful getting back to your hotel, okay?"

"I'll try my best."

"And good luck tomorrow with her arraignment." Martin wanted nothing more than to see Ella Gaines sent to jail for all that she'd done, and he hadn't even known Chris's family. He couldn't even begin to imagine the feelings of vengeance that Chris must be feeling right then.

"Thank you. I'll call your office to let you all know how it went," Chris said. Then he shook his head. "Fuck this." He reached down and grabbed Martin by the biceps, in the same exact places where Danny had grabbed him, Martin noted, and then pulled Martin to his feet in one swift move.

Chris's lips were then on his, lightly at first, an almost feather-soft kiss. But the softness quickly faded as the urgency behind the kiss let Martin know that this was definitely a farewell kiss as in 'we'll never kiss again like this, so this had better say it all'. Chris's tongue pushed at Martin's lips, and as he wrapped his arms around Chris's waist, he parted his lips, giving Chris the access he wanted. At one point, Martin thought he heard footsteps, but when he didn't hear Danny saying anything, he figured that he'd either imagined it or had heard his upstairs neighbor moving around.

When Chris finally broke free from the kiss, they were both breathless and very, very hard. Chris placed his hand over Martin's erection, palming it firmly. "I'm going to miss you, Martin."

Martin lowered one hand and gave Chris's denim clad ass a tight squeeze. "And I'm going to miss you, too."

Chris nodded and then grinned again. "I don't think you'll get a chance to get lonesome, though. At least, you'd better not. Because if I call from Denver and find out that you and Danny haven't worked things out, then I'm going to have to come back out here to put things right. And while I might not mind making the trip, I don't think my boss would be too understanding of me rushing back to the Big Apple so soon after the conference."

Martin chuckled. "Well, I'll try my best on that. Danny seems to be the stubborn one here for a change."

Chris shrugged. "Maybe he got some sense knocked into him while we were out?" He turned and picked up his bag and then headed for the door. "Take care," he called out toward the kitchen, and Danny immediately appeared in the doorway, a smile on his face.

"Have a safe trip home, Chris," Danny said.

Chris nodded and then left, pulling the door firmly closed behind him. Danny leaned against the door frame and looked over at Martin. "Want to come help me carry the food out there or do you want to dish it out on plates?"

Martin headed for Danny. "I'd rather eat it out of the carton." Or off of you, he thought. But since they hadn't had their 'talk' yet, he was reluctant to say that out loud.

Danny grinned. "Sounds good to me. Wait here." Danny took a few steps toward the counter and then came back with two cartons. He handed them to Martin. "I think I bought enough for us. I figured that you'd be hungry, but I wasn't sure just how hungry you'd be after your drinking binge."

"The starving kind of hungry," Martin replied as he carried the cartons over to the coffee table and set them down. "What did you get?"

Danny headed toward him, chopsticks stuck in the pocket of his shirt and a container of food in each hand. "Two orders of Pad Thai, one with chicken and one with beef, spring rolls, and two orders of crab Rangoon."

Martin grinned. "You definitely know how to make my stomach happy."

"Hey, I try my best," Danny replied, smirking as he set the containers down and then handed Martin a pair of chopsticks.

"And just what is this bribe for?"

Danny brought his hand up to his heart, "You wound me, Fitzie! To think that I'd only bring you your favorite dishes just because I want to bribe you in some way."

Martin tilted his head to one side and regarded Danny amusedly. "I'm sorry if the truth wounds you, Danny. So, c'mon, what is it that you want from me?"

Danny held up an index finger. "Hold that question. I forgot my drink and the sauce for the crab Rangoon."

 

While Danny returned from the kitchen, he saw that Martin had opened the cartons and containers, and he'd just scooped up a generous helping of beef Pad Thai.

"Eating before your guest? Looks like those fancy manners of yours took a hike." Danny sat down and reached for a spring roll.

"I usually forego the fancy manners where bribery is concerned." Martin quickly shoved the food into his mouth, but his attention was on Danny.

God, but he could get lost in those blue eyes, Danny thought. And then he remembered that he now had a chance to do that very thing, provided he didn't blow it before he ever got Martin to the bedroom. "Well, part of it, say the crab Rangoon part, is to get you to forgive me for taking your keys. However, in light of the fact that you turned the tables on me for that, I think that I can find some other bribe for the crab Rangoon to be about. And by the way, I now owe you for siccing the locals on us like that."

Martin swallowed quickly, then grinned as he reached for a piece of crab Rangoon. "Your logic makes no sense, Taylor. If me turning the tables on you was justifiable revenge for you taking and using my keys, then how it is that you owe me back for it?"

Danny chewed slowly, needing to think on his answer since Martin did sort of have a point about that. He watched as Martin bit off one corner of the triangular shaped dumpling, and then began to slowly lick the filling out, leaving the shell behind, something Martin seemed to have always done with the appetizer. Danny had never seen anyone do that to crab Rangoon, and if it wasn't for the fact that Martin made it look so damn sexy, he'd probably have picked on him about it long ago. But damn, it was mighty fine to watch that tongue lap into the dumpling, and it always gave Danny a cheap thrill to think about what that tongue could do to him. He slowly smiled as he remembered that now he was finally going to get the chance to find out just what Martin's tongue could do.

Remembering Larabee's advice, Danny reached for one of the appetizers, and he bit an end off. He glanced up and saw that Martin was watching him now, a puzzled look on his face. Puzzled was good, Danny thought. It would make it all that better when Martin figured it out. Danny had to look away from Martin long enough to use his first two fingers to scoop out the filling, but once that was done, he looked back at Martin.

"You really shouldn't have to strain your tongue," he said as he held his fingers out toward the other man. "This should be much easier."

Martin's eyes seemed to morph into a deeper shade of blue as Danny's words sank in, but he didn't move. Danny began to fear that maybe he'd moved too fast, but then Martin leaned toward him, his right hand reaching out and clasping hold of Danny's wrist, holding him in place. "I think you might be right," Martin said, his voice sounding more than a bit raspy to Danny's ears.

As Martin's head moved closer to Danny's hand, he found himself unable to look away from Martin's eyes. At that moment, it felt as if he was the only other person in the world, and then all sensible thought was chased from Danny's head as Martin's lips slowly closed over his fingers at the knuckles, past where the crab and cream cheese filling was. Danny swallowed hard as he felt Martin's warm and wet tongue slide over his skin and then Martin was sucking at the filling. And all the time his eyes were on Danny's, holding him in place just as surely as if he was using all his strength to hold Danny down. That tongue began to lathe Danny's fingers, dipping between them as it made certain that not a smidgeon of filling remained. There was a whimper, and Danny belatedly realized that it came from his throat. It was as good as he'd imagined it would be, and as his pants began to become too tight for comfort, Danny found himself actually grateful to Chris Larabee for the advice and the lecture. To have missed this… 

"God…Martin."

Martin slowly slid his mouth to the tips of Danny's fingers, gently releasing him. He then smiled, and it was a slow smile that seemed to make Danny's insides turn into liquid even as his cock became harder.

"You were right. That *was* much easier." Martin's eyes were still darker, but Danny caught a twinkle of amusement in their depths. "Now it's your turn to eat something a bit…easier."

Remembering the rest of Larabee's advice about eating with Martin, Danny reached out and began to move the food containers to the floor, once more making Martin look puzzled. "I think I need something to eat off of," Danny explained, and then he grinned as he saw the realization hit Martin.

"Do you now. And just what would that something be?" Martin asked, and there was a touch of a smirk playing around his lips.

Danny's eyes raked down Martin's body, and his smile broadened as he noticed the bulge under the cotton of the sweatpants. He looked back up and locked gazes with Martin once more. "You."

Danny got to his feet and motioned for Martin to do the same, and his heart felt as if it skipped a beat when Martin didn't hesitate to not only stand, but cross the few feet that separated them. "I think you need to be naked for this," Danny said, and God but he hoped that his voice didn't sound as shaky to Martin's ears as it sounded to his own.

A grin tugged at Martin's mouth. "I think you're right about that, too." In one swift motion, Martin grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and yanked it up and over his head. 

Danny didn't watch to see where the shirt fell, not when he had Martin's bare torso in front of him once more. And this time, Larabee wasn't just inches away, watching his every move as he reached out and ran his hands lightly over Martin's skin. Danny had seen Martin more than once dressed in nothing but his boxers or a towel, but this was so much better. He'd spent so many anxious moments putting his self-control to the test because he was so tempted to reach out and touch Martin all those times. Now though, Danny was allowed to touch, and touch he did. He ran his hands over all of Martin's skin, lightly skimming the surface and yet even that small bit of contact made Martin moan with what Danny could tell was pleasure. He stepped behind Martin, letting his hands continue roaming, and he brought them up to Martin's chest, lingering over the muscles there before coming to rest atop Martin's erect nipples. Danny began to lightly kiss and bite at Martin's shoulder as he rubbed his palms over those hard nubs.

"Danny…" Martin sighed on another moan and making Danny grin. Martin was quickly being reduced to a man capable of only uttering small words, and most likely incapable of putting together an entire sentence, and it was all because of him.

It had been Danny's intention to have Martin strip for him, but now that he had his arms around Martin, he was changing his mind. He wanted Martin naked, and he wanted to be the one to remove the last of the material that kept him from doing that. Trailing kisses up to Martin's ear, Danny sucked lightly on Martin's earlobe, earning yet another moan and Martin pushing his body back against Danny's.

"Tell me that you've gone commando under those sweats," Danny said, his voice low and husky even to his own ears.

He felt Martin's head moving in an affirmative gesture, but wanted to hear Martin admit it out loud. Using his left hand to tweak at a nipple, Danny moved his right hand south to cup Martin's erection, feeling the heat from Martin's body through the cotton material. "Tell me."

"Yes…It's just the pants." Martin squirmed backward, and Danny's cock twitched as Martin's ass made delicious contact with his groin. "Danny…please…"

Danny grinned against Martin's shoulder, and he gave Martin's cock a light squeeze. "Please what? What is it that you want, Martin?"

Martin pushed his hips back harder, and he turned his head and looked back at Danny. "You. I. Want. You."

"Then you've got me. All you had to do was ask." Danny licked along Martin's shoulder as he began to push down on the waistband of the sweatpants. "Although, I don't think that was really asking now, was it?"

"You didn't tell me to ask for what I wanted," Martin said, his hands moving to rest on Danny's, as if he could hurry him along.

Danny chuckled, both from Martin's logic as well as from realizing that he'd fallen down on his self-appointed task of driving Martin to distraction, since Martin was now forming sentences. 

Well, I can't have that, Danny thought, and he slowly moved down behind Martin, following the progress of his hands. As his tongue met the curve of Martin's ass, Danny had to pause long enough to lick his way across both ass cheeks, tormenting himself just as much as he was obviously tormenting Martin. He so wanted to see Martin's cock again, wanted to touch it, squeeze it, lick it, taste Martin…yeah, he'd seen plenty of Martin earlier that morning, but Martin had been drunk, and not aware of what was going on. But now Martin knew just what was happening, and Danny had no concerns about taking advantage of the other man. The only frustrating thing was that he couldn't see it from his position behind Martin. However, he was getting a nice appreciation of the wonderful ass that looked even better bare than it did under a pair of jeans or slacks.

Tempted to linger at that spot, Danny had to force himself to keep his body moving lower. But he couldn't resist taking a small nip at the rounded curve of Martin's ass before moving on to kissing and licking the back of Martin's thighs. Breathing deeply, Danny could smell soap and Martin's own scent, and he thought that nothing ever smelled as good. He kept pushing downward on the sweatpants, and now had them bunched up at Martin's ankles.

Danny placed a hand at Martin's hip to steady the man, and tapped Martin's foot. "Raise your foot for me," he instructed, and Martin quickly obeyed the command. Feeling Martin shaking slightly beneath his hand, Danny moved quickly to pull the pant leg off of Martin's foot so he could once more stand on two feet. But the shaking didn't stop, and that worried Danny.

"You doin' okay?" Danny asked.

"I'm good," Martin replied, and his voice didn't sound shaky, which Danny took as a good sign. Martin's shaking wasn't due to fear or being cold, or else Danny would have picked that up in the sound of Martin's voice.

"Good. Lift your other foot for me." Once again, Martin quickly obeyed, and Danny wasted no time in tossing the sweatpants aside.

Getting to his feet, Danny walked around until he was directly in front of Martin, and he slowly grinned as he saw the visual evidence that Martin was aroused for him, hard because of him. He reached out and gently grasped Martin's erection, pulling Martin closer to him. 

"I've been dreaming about this," Danny admitted.

Martin smiled, "Me, too. After last night…I began to think that it would never happen."

"Me, too." Danny reached up with his left hand and caressed Martin's cheek, his heart constricting as Martin leaned into the touch. "I'm sorry that I was so stupid last night. I never meant to hurt you, and I really thought that I was doing the right thing by you. Chris helped me see that I was wrong, and I'm damn glad that you're letting me have a second chance."

Martin turned his head a bit further into Danny's hand and kissed his palm. The warmth of Martin's lips and the gentle tingle of warm breath against his palm sent a shiver of anticipation through Danny.

"The table," Danny said, and felt quite proud of himself for being capable of speech at that moment. "I want you on the table."

As Martin turned toward the coffee table, Danny felt a rush of worry. What if the table couldn't take Martin's weight? "Wait."

Martin turned his head to look back at him, and Danny almost shrank back at the uncertainty he saw in Martin's eyes.

"Don't stop this," Martin said, his voice a strained whisper. "God, Danny, please don't stop us this time."

Danny shook his head. "I'm not. I just wanted to ask if you were sure about the coffee table. I don't want it collapsing under you right when things get really interesting."

Martin smiled, and Danny felt a surge of relief as that smile chased away the doubt that had been in those gorgeous blue eyes just moments before. "I've never stretched out on it like we're planning, but I've had more than one person sitting on it, and it's held up so far."

Martin sat down on the coffee table and looked up at Danny, an amused look in his eyes. "And if it does collapse, then you'll just have to kiss all my boo-boos better, won't you?"

Danny laughed. "Boo-boos? I never thought I'd see the day when I heard those words come outta your mouth, Fitzie! Boo-boos!"

"Find that amusing, do you?" Martin asked, his eyes now a darker blue, and Danny had the sinking feeling that the darkness in those irises wasn't due to passion, but borne of something else. Martin sounded like he wanted to cross words with him, which was a game that Danny often enjoyed. And right then, taking the time for a little verbal banter might be just the thing needed to pull him back from the edge, keep him from feeling things too quickly, too intensely.

"Just a bit, yeah," Danny admitted, a smile tugging at his mouth.

Martin leaned back on the table until he was propped up on his elbows, but he'd kept his eyes on Danny's face the whole time. Danny found the laughter drying up within him as he watched the pink tip of Martin's tongue slip out to slowly moisten those full lips. And then Martin spread his legs and put all his weight on just one elbow as he reached for himself, taking his own cock in his right hand. "I'm glad that I can provide you with some entertainment."

"Oh, yeah," Danny agreed as he watched Martin slowly stroke himself. His own cock, which had been hard for what felt like ages now, seemed to swell even more. This was a new game, but Danny wasn't going to complain one bit about it. "I can watch you do that all day."

Taking a few steps forward, Danny reached down and picked up the container of sweet and sour sauce that had come with the crab Rangoon. Going to his knees at the side of the coffee table, Danny slowly grinned as he took Martin's hand in his own and pulled it away from that beautiful cock. "But, as much as I could spend all day watching you doing that, there are some other things I think I'd much rather do right now. Like this…"

Danny tilted the container, letting the sticky red sauce fall along the length of Martin's cock. Setting the container aside, Danny grasped the cock at its base and began to slowly lick the sauce away. This earned him a whimper from Martin, and also made his own cock very, very happy over having Martin's cock almost in his mouth. He wanted to hear Martin begging him, wanted that body arching up into his touch, wanted to feel Martin's mouth on his own cock and see those blue eyes looking up at him as if he was the only other person in the world. Damn if Ron Bradley and Chris Larabee were going to be the only people who could ever see that. One big difference though, Danny thought with a rush of pride. *He* was the only one of them that Martin truly loved. Yeah, he might care about Larabee, Danny wasn't blind to that. But he wasn't in love with the guy, and he was in love with him. Just as Danny was in love with Martin. And he intended to make as much of that love as possible.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date originally published: April 20, 2009

Martin didn't even think about trying to hold back the moans that Danny's wonderful, hot and sexy mouth was eliciting. It almost felt surreal, being spread out on his own coffee table as Danny Taylor had his way with him, dribbling sweet and sour sauce over his heated skin and then licking and sucking it off in a way that Martin was positive only Danny could ever achieve.

But it wasn't a dream, and Danny really was doing those things, his slacks and dress shirt looking perfect and unwrinkled as he knelt there between Martin's legs. This confused him, because he knew that Danny had fallen asleep on his couch earlier, and then had been out running around with Chris, and the man's clothes should at least have one wrinkle from all of that. But then again, this *was* Danny, the man who could look calm, cool and collected even after chasing a suspect five blocks in the middle of summer. So it really wasn't a surprise that Danny could look that pulled together while slowly driving Martin wild. Nope, not a surprise at all.

Martin bit back a whimper as Danny's teeth lightly grazed along his skin. He could see that Danny was enjoying himself, and he felt relieved at that. But, he wasn't yet confident that Danny would stay and keep going if he let Danny know just how much he liked even that little bit of pain. The sting of Saturday's rejection and Danny's words "I can't trust you" were too raw, too close to the surface for him to take anything for granted, letting him know that he wasn't as over the words as he'd thought. He'd bite his tongue off before letting Danny know just how good anything really felt. Anything to prevent Danny from walking through that door and leaving him alone.

"You like that?"

Danny's voice yanked his attention away from his thoughts and back to what Danny was doing to him. He glanced down, a slow grin starting as he saw the anxious look in Danny's eyes. It really mattered to Danny that he liked what was happening, and Martin felt deeply honored by that.

"Yeah, I like that," Martin said, and his cock twitched as Danny's hand squeezed around it.

"Good," Danny's smile sent a shiver down Martin's spine, and he wondered how it was that he'd lived so many years without Danny in his life. Yeah, Chris being kidnapped was a bad thing, but it had brought Danny to him, and Martin could never think of that as a bad thing. So maybe it was true that bad things often had a silver lining if you looked long and hard enough. A slight pang hit Martin's stomach then, and he remembered that except for that little bit of food a few minutes ago, he hadn't eaten all day.

"There is one thing though…"

Danny cocked his head to one side, his expression genuinely confused. "That being?"

"I thought you were going to feed me." Danny was a sucker for a pout, didn't matter if it was on a male or a female, and right then Martin was hungry and desperate enough to use that trick on the other man. Hungry for real food, and desperate enough to need them to take a breather before Danny did something that would send his resolution to not reveal too much right out the window.

Danny slowly smiled, and there was a decidedly wicked twinkle in the man's eyes, "So I did. Well, we can't have you passing out from hunger now, can we?" 

Martin sat up as Danny reached for one of the food containers, wondering just what Danny had in mind. Danny reached into the container, scooping out a fair amount of Pad Thai with his fingers. Grinning now, he held his hand out toward Martin. "How about some chicken Pad Thai?"

Martin grinned back. "Thank you." He reached out and grasped Danny's wrist, holding it firmly in place as he leaned in to gently nibble away at the noodles that were threatening to drip from Danny's fingers. Working his tongue around to get at the noodles that were trying to hide in the spaces between the fingers, Martin heard Danny moan, and he felt more than a bit of satisfaction that he was now the one distracting Danny so nicely.

Once the noodles were eaten, Martin began to suck each finger clean, taking his time with each one and doing his best to ignore the way his own cock twitched with interest every time Danny moaned. And damn but the man was doing an awful lot of moaning just from a little bit of playing!

Martin released Danny's wrist and looked up into eyes that were now more black than brown. "More please," Martin requested with a smile. "I just can't seem to get enough of that."

Danny stared down at him, but didn't move at first. As Martin began to worry about that, Danny slowly grinned and reached into the container once again. "I ordered it just for you."

Danny held his hand out toward Martin, and Martin once more grasped his wrist, holding him steady. "That was very thoughtful of you," he replied. Leaning forward, Martin kept his gaze on Danny's eyes as he began to suck and nibble at the Pad Thai, and damn if it didn't look as if Danny's eyes got a little bit bigger as he watched Martin 'eat'.

Martin slowly sucked a noodle into his mouth, then cocked his head to one side as he regarded his partner. After swallowing what was in his mouth, he slowly licked his lips, then did his best to look puzzled. "I still think you got it just to bribe me, but, I just can't think of any reason why you'd need to bribe me. Oh, wait. I remember now." Martin said with a smirk as he teased the other man. "I was angry with you and you wanted to make it up to me."

Danny laughed at that. "Is that what you think? Hell, Martin. If I'd have known that all it took to get you over being angry with me was to bribe you with food, then I'd have been doing it ever since we met."

It was Martin's turn to laugh then. "You *have* been doing it. Well, maybe not since the first time we met, but when you went with me to the hospital and we had to wait for the x-rays to come back, you went to the cafeteria and came back with a donut and milk for me. I think I remember you saying something about how you didn't want to risk me throwing up coffee if the concussion made me sick, but you were willing to risk milk not upsetting my tummy. And yes, you *did* say tummy."

Danny grinned. "I remember that. But that wasn't a bribe. That was just me trying to lull you into a false sense of security so you'd be taken totally by surprise when Jack lit into you the next day." He reached into the container for more noodles. "Didn't work, though. You were definitely ready for it when you came back to work and Jack read you the riot act over what you'd done."

"Jack's reputation preceded him," Martin replied. "Besides, when it comes to chewing someone up and spitting him out, Jack has nothing on my parents."

Martin reached out and grabbed Danny's hand once more, but he didn't lean toward it. Instead he pushed it upward. "I think that I'm in the mood to eat off of something else now. So, why don't you get to your feet and let me see if I can find something suitable?"

Danny grinned, but he braced his free hand against Martin's knee and slowly got to his feet. Martin slowly smiled as he realized that he'd been right in thinking that if he remained seated on the table, he'd be at eye level with Danny's cock.

"Just hold onto that for a bit," Martin said as he released Danny's wrist and began to tug the shirttail out of Danny's waistband. "Or eat it yourself. You probably want to keep up your strength. You know…for later." Martin grinned up at Danny and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Can't have you fainting on me just when things are getting good."

Danny snorted. "I'll have you know that I never get faint…especially when things are getting good." He raised his hand and began to nibble on the noodles as Martin continued to pull the shirt free of his pants.

Martin didn't mind that Danny was watching him. He rather liked being watched, didn't matter if it was when he was undressing his partner or doing something to his partner, or even to himself. It made him even more aroused when he could look into the eyes of whoever he was with and see that they were aroused, or getting more aroused. 

Once he had the shirt free, he began to unbutton it, starting at the bottom and making sure to kiss every little bit of skin that was revealed as he made his way up to the top button. Danny had removed his tie earlier, probably when he'd decided to nap on the couch, so Martin didn't have to deal with that, which was slightly unfortunate as Martin rather enjoyed playing with ties. But, if things went the way he thought they were going, there would be plenty of opportunity to play with Danny and his ties later. Lots of opportunities, even.

Martin licked Danny's skin, savoring the taste and deeply inhaling the scent of the other man. Oh, he'd been dreaming of this for such a long time, watched Danny at work just wondering what he'd taste like, what he smelled like under the cologne he wore. Not that Martin didn't like Danny's choice in cologne, because he did. But he treasured the real scent of a person, and preferred it over any fragrance that could be bottled and sold.

Martin paused, resting his lips against Danny's belly and feeling the rapid rise and fall of Danny's body. Danny's skin was hot, and Martin brought his hands up under the shirt, lightly skimming them over Danny's sides and to his back. He ran his hands further up Danny's body until he reached his collar bone, and then he moved them outward, along the shoulders, pushing the shirt out of the way and down Danny's arms. Martin kept his mouth busy while getting that shirt out of the way, rising up a bit as he licked his way up to the middle of Danny's chest and then over to a nipple where he promptly took an erect nub into his mouth, sucking greedily. Danny's moans of pleasure seemed to echo within the man's chest, and Martin placed a hand there, his palm flat against the skin, so he could feel those vibrations. It was this, call it talent, ability, whatever, that always sent a thrill through Martin. To know that he could bring such pleasure to another person, be it male or female, was intoxicating. 

The satisfaction that he was feeling right then, though, seemed to be so much more intense than anything he'd ever felt before. And it was because it was Danny, Martin was sure of that. Yeah, he'd cared a lot about some of the people he'd been with in the past, and even with Chris, the feeling had been intense. But not like this. Hell, he thought that he could very easily come just listening to the noises that Danny was making. Noises that told him just how much Danny liked what was being done to him.

God, he was hard, almost too hard, he thought as he licked his way to the other nipple, sucking on it as greedily as he had its twin. As Martin moved his hand down to grasp his own cock, the only thought in his head was that he so desperately needed release, that he should go on and jerk off so that the need wouldn't override everything else. He wanted to take his time with Danny, and Martin knew himself well enough to know that if he didn't take care of the problem now, then he'd try to rush things, and that wasn't what he wanted right now.

He stopped sucking though, as two hands grasped the sides of his head and gently pulled him away from Danny's chest. He looked up at Danny, knowing he was pouting over the interruption and not giving a damn that it was childish. And looking up at Danny took his breath away. The man's face was flushed, his lips slightly parted and his eyes darker than Martin had ever seen them.

"It's mine." Danny said, slightly out of breath.

Martin's brow furrowed in confusion, and Danny chuckled as he reached out and grabbed Martin's arm, moving it so that he had no choice but to let go of his cock.

"Your cock is mine. You'll come when I say you can come, and not before." Danny's other hand moved slightly as he threaded his fingers through Martin's short hair. "Do you know how beautiful you look right now?"

Martin smiled slightly. "Not anywhere as beautiful as you do."

Danny shook his head and Martin quickly reached out to undo the belt around Danny's waist. "So, if I'm not allowed to play with my own cock, then am I allowed to play with this one?" Martin asked as he palmed the hardness that was so tantalizingly close, hidden behind those stupid slacks that Danny was still wearing.

Danny's eyes fluttered closed as he let out a low moan, and Martin grinned, knowing that the answer was a definite yes, even if Danny hadn't actually spoken out loud. He returned his attentions to Danny's belly, slowly licking around his belly button as his hands worked at undoing the fastening of Danny's slacks and then lowering the zipper.

"Martin…" Danny's was sounding breathless again, and Martin held back the grin that was trying to form over that little fact. "Wait."

Martin paused mid-lick, then raised his head to look up at Danny. "Yes?"

"I need to get something out of my pocket," Danny said, already reaching into his left pocket for something.

"I've got condoms in the bedroom," Martin offered. They weren't yet to the point of needing condoms, but if assuring Danny that plenty were on hand meant that they could get back to doing things, then Martin had no problem giving Danny the information. Hell, he'd give him a complete inventory of his nightstand if that would make Danny happy and get the man to cease with this stop and go stuff.

Danny grinned and wriggled his eyebrows. "It's not a condom. It's something Chris gave me when you left us alone in the kitchen." 

Danny pulled his hand out, and Martin could see a bit of a silver chain dangling from his now closed fist. Knowing what Chris liked, Martin slowly grinned as he knew that Danny was holding some type of nipple clamp. The question though, was if they were the alligator style clamps that Chris had bought earlier in the week, or had he bought something new that day? Martin's cock twitched happily at the memory of those other clamps, and every part of his body seemed to hum with anticipation of what was to come. If Danny was willing to use nipple clamps, then maybe Martin wouldn't have to hold back his feelings as much as he thought he'd need to do.

Martin couldn't seem to take his eyes off of that bit of chain, even more so when Danny opened his hand to reveal that he was indeed, holding a set of nipple clamps. Martin edged forward slightly to get a better look at the clamps, and he could have sworn that his heart was about to pound out of his chest as he saw that they were his favorite kind; clover clamps, and he remembered those being on the receipt from the shopping that Chris had done on Friday. It wasn't until he felt something warm against his cheek that Martin was able to stop looking at those clamps, and when he did come back to himself, he found that Danny was caressing his cheek.

"I'm going out on a limb here and guess that you really like these," Danny said, a decidedly evil grin on his face.

Martin tilted his head further into that caress, savoring the warmth from Danny's skin. "Yeah, I like those," he admitted. "But I'm a bit confused. Didn't that bitch grab Chris as he was leaving the store? How'd he get these back so quickly?" The arresting officers would have bagged just about everything in Ella's apartment and vehicle, in case it was needed as evidence. And that would have included any and all of Chris's belongings.

Danny nodded. "She did grab him then, but he'd put these in his pocket before he left the store, so she never knew about them. And he sure as Hell didn't tell Jack what he had in his pockets." The smirk on Danny's face told Martin that Danny didn't disagree with that little bit of misdirection on Chris's part.

Martin grinned, then gestured toward Danny's hand. "You know how to use that kind?"


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date originally published: April 20, 2009

When Danny had remembered what was in his pocket, he'd not been too sure about bringing it out. Then he'd recalled the glint in Chris's eyes when he'd handed it to Danny, telling him that he'd forego his policy of not kissing and telling and that if he really wanted to get Martin worked up, he'd use it.

Still, even as he'd reached into his pocket for the nipple clamps, Danny was feeling a bit hesitant, and then Martin had spotted the bit of dangling chain, and damn, but his eyes lit up instantly! There was no doubt that Chris had been right about Martin's reaction, and Danny couldn't help but wonder how Martin was going to react once they were on him.

"Yeah, I know how these work," Danny admitted. The clover clamps were a bit easier to use than alligator clamps because once you attached them to the nipples, you didn't have to keep adjusting them. If you wanted them tighter, you just pulled the chain, and they'd tighten up quite nicely. The only danger was in letting them get too tight and then leaving them on too long, but this is where Danny was going to have to put some faith in Martin. "And I'm going to need you to tell me when they get to be too tight, or you think they've been on too long."

Danny reached out and tweaked one of Martin's nipples, earning a low moan of pleasure. "I like your nipples, and I don't want to risk losing one of them due to lack of circulation."

Martin nodded. "I do know my limits, Danny, and I won't hesitate to let you know when I've reached them. But…" Martin looked away for a moment, then back up at him. "My limits might be a bit further than you think is good. So, you've got to trust me, too."

Danny took in a deep breath. "I'll try. But you've got to understand that I love you, and I'd never want to do anything that would bring real harm to you. So, if I start to freak out on you, then you've got to be patient, okay?"

Martin smiled and nodded again. "I will. So," he gestured toward the clamps. "Were you just showing them to me or were you planning on using them now?"

Danny slowly grinned as he moved his hand from Martin's cheek to his shoulder and began to gently push the other man back down against the table. "I intend to use them now. But, it seems to me that they'll work a bit better if your nipples are a bit more firm, don't you?" Praying that Martin's coffee table was extremely sturdy, Danny straddled Martin's hips, which might have been a slight mistake on his part as the feeling of Martin's hard cock pressing against him was more than a little distracting. However, since Martin's cock was now trapped, Danny didn't have to worry about keeping Martin from touching himself, so that was a plus. Another plus was that Martin had unzipped the pants, and Danny's cock was no longer straining to get free of its confinement. Now that his cock wasn't pressed hard against the material, he felt that he could hold out for a long, long time. 

Danny dropped the nipple clamps onto the middle of Martin's chest, grinning as he noticed that Martin still found it difficult to keep his eyes off of them. Reaching down, Danny began to play with both nipples, lightly pinching at them, then rolling the erect nubs between his own thumbs and forefingers. God, the noises that Martin was making went straight to Danny's cock, and the thought that he could last a long time went right out the window. If they weren't careful, then they'd both be coming soon.

"You like this, don't you?" Danny asked, noting that the nipple play made Martin's cock flex, pushing up against Danny. "Chris said that the clamps would get you really worked up, and you're like this and I haven't even put them on you…yet."

Martin glared up at him, and that just made Danny's grin even broader. Martin always seemed to have that rebellious streak in him, even at the wrong times, and Danny had been half afraid that that rebellious nature would go into hiding during sex. While Danny liked controlling things, he still liked a challenge, and a rebellious Martin was always a challenge that Danny liked taking on.

A sharp tweak of both nipples made Martin's eyelids flutter closed and drawing a soft whimper from him as well. "You still haven't said whether or not you like this?" Danny asked, his voice sounding hoarse to his own ears. He liked touching his lovers, and really enjoyed playing with nipples almost as much as he enjoyed playing with other body parts. To see that Martin had such sensitive nipples and seemed to enjoy nipple play as much as he did was yet another sign to Danny that they were meant to be together. And he was so fucking grateful that Chris Larabee had taken the time to make him see and understand that small truth.

"Yeah," Martin said, his voice soft. "I really like that."

Danny gazed down into Martin's eyes, eyes that were now such a dark blue that he would have been hard pressed to tell their true color. So dark, so intense, so truthful. Danny suddenly took a deep breath, feeling a little bit awed that Martin had fallen in love with him of all people. God, this was so important, and Danny was still scared that he'd mess it up. Hell, he was lucky to be getting this second chance with Martin, and there was a part of Danny that couldn't help but wonder if he himself would have been as forgiving if their roles had been reversed and Martin had been the one who pushed him away for his own good. Probably not. But then, Danny did have that bit of a self-punishing streak running inside, probably something not all that different from Martin's masochistic tendencies.

And speaking of those tendencies…Danny picked up the chain, letting the clamps dangle. "You want this now?"

Martin nodded, his eyes once more focused on those clamps. "Please," his voice still soft, but Danny had no problem picking up on the urgent undertone in his voice.

Danny shifted position a bit, so that he could bend over and reach Martin's chest a bit better. Bracing himself against the tabletop, Danny lowered his mouth to the first nipple, sucking and then biting slightly at it until he had Martin writhing beneath him, making small whimpering sounds that went straight to Danny's cock. Raising up, Danny quickly attached the first clamp and then repeated the process on the other nipple, yoking them together.

Straightening, Danny gazed down at Martin, knowing he'd never seen anyone as beautiful as Martin looked right then. The man's eyes were still a dark blue, and his skin was flushed and glistening with sweat, his lips full and begging to be kissed. Hell, every part of Martin was begging to be kissed. Danny reached for the chain and slowly rose to his feet, carefully pulling Martin upright as he did so and watching as those clamps began to tighten on those sensitive nubs.

Martin let out a gasp of pain, and Danny hesitated, thought about stopping, but Martin didn't say anything and Danny knew that he'd have to just trust the other man, as he'd promised to try to do. He pulled again on the chain, and this time Martin moaned, and it sounded a Hell of a lot like the noise Martin made when he liked something, so Danny figured that everything must be okay from his end of things.

He let go of the chain and stepped back, quickly toeing off his shoes and then pushing his pants and briefs to his feet. Martin's eyes were now just as focused on Danny's cock as they had been on the nipple clamps, and Danny couldn't help but feel proud of that small fact. He wanted Martin to always be focused on him, wanted to always be focused on Martin, too.

Stepping out of his pants and briefs, Danny then removed his socks and stepped back toward Martin. "Suck me," he said, more than ready to see what it would really feel like to have Martin's mouth on his cock, sucking and licking and doing to him all of the wonderful things he'd done to Chris and that fucking waiter from the hotel.

Martin looked up at him, their gazes meeting, and without letting his gaze waver, Martin moved to the floor, on his knees, and Danny had to close his eyes briefly as his fantasy began to come to life before him. But his eyes flew open as he felt a wet heat engulf his cock head, and he looked down, expecting to see Martin fully engrossed in what he was doing. What he saw though, took his breath away, because Martin was still looking right up at him, and Danny was half-afraid that he'd come just because of that.

"Fuck, Martin…" Danny's voice was rough as he placed a hand on each side of Martin's head, simply content right then to just be touching the other man. "You are so beautiful."

And damn if Martin didn't smile around Danny's cock, letting the wonderful tight suction go slack for a moment before resuming what he was doing. Martin had a talented mouth, and Danny felt his resentment toward that waiter and Chris slowly ebbing away the longer that mouth worked over his cock. They'd had the mouth alone, but Danny was getting the mouth and one other thing that those other men never had, and that was Martin's love. Hell, maybe his own love for Martin was also playing a big part in just how good Martin was making him feel right then. Because Danny'd had a lot of blow jobs over the years, from both men and women, but none had felt as good or as intense as what Martin was doing.

Danny sucked in a quick breath as Martin's tongue did a wonderfully wicked thing to the head of his cock, and he knew that it was now decision time. Did he let Martin suck him off, or did he stop Martin before they reached the point of no-return, so that he could bend Martin over the back of his own couch and fuck him senseless? Shit, Danny knew that right then, he'd never be able to fully enjoy fucking Martin. His need would be too great, too urgent for them to both truly enjoy it. Far better to let Martin suck him off, then return the favor and let them both cool off a bit before going any further. When Danny had Martin for the first time, he wanted it to be special, and not hot, frenzied and furious. Not that there was anything wrong with those things, but they weren't what he wanted for something that important. And make no mistake about it, Danny felt that their first time going all the way was important. Too important to ruin just because he felt as if he'd never had a mouth on his cock before and was equally as anxious to find out just what Martin's ass would feel like around his cock.

Danny felt his knees going weak as Martin's mouth drove him closer to the edge. Wishing he was seated, or at least had a wall or an object behind him, Danny stroked his fingers along Martin's cheeks, then let them drift downward until he could feel the muscles of Martin's throat working. "Yeah…just like that…" Danny growled out as his hands followed the up and down movement of Martin's head. "That's good, babe…so fucking good."

And damn if Martin didn't seem to notch things up a bit at hearing his words, making Danny quickly wonder if Martin would get even more aroused if he started talking dirty to him. Quickly wondered because what Martin was doing was making it difficult to think, and it was taking everything Danny had just to stay upright as tremors shot through his body. He was close now, almost there, and damn if Martin didn't back off slightly.

"Martin," Danny didn't care about the quiver in his voice. He needed to come. Needed to have Martin make him come. "No playing around…take that cock and suck it hard…make me come…"

Martin paused long enough to look up at him, his eyes dark and intense as their gazes met. "Suck me off now, Martin," Danny said, his voice much firmer. "You know you want to."

That smile around his cock again, and Martin began to slowly move his head down Danny's cock, but he kept their gazes locked. Still, even though Martin was moving slowly, he kept his mouth tight around Danny's girth, ensuring that the suction remained steady.

"Fuck this…" Danny growled, finally taking matters into his own hands. He grasped the sides of Martin's head, holding the man steady as he began to thrust into Martin's mouth. There was a flash of satisfaction in Martin's eyes, and Danny knew then that this was what Martin had been waiting for. "You like this, don't you?" Danny asked, keeping his thrusts even. "Like having your mouth fucked as much as your ass?"

A moan was Danny's answer. That, and the way Martin managed to still swipe at his cockhead with his tongue were enough to send Danny over the edge. He thrust forward one last time, a bit rougher than he'd intended, but damn if Martin didn't manage to handle it. Danny's hands moved once more to Martin's cheeks as he felt his cock spasm, spilling his come into that hot mouth. Martin swallowed quickly, and Danny's hands could feel the movement, making him feel somewhat proud that his lover not only could handle his cock so deeply, but that he wanted to taste him, as well. That worked for Danny, because he did get a cheap thrill out of kissing his lover after a bout of oral sex and tasting himself in his or her mouth. Liked to show his lover that he wasn't too proud to taste himself, but the taste of his own come mixed with the taste of his lover was almost an aphrodisiac in itself.

As Danny slowly went to his knees, he slid one hand behind Martin's neck, holding the other man steady until their lips met, his own tongue licking along the other's lips, demanding to be let inside. He could feel the sigh as Martin parted his lips, and he didn't hesitate to dive right on in, plundering Martin's mouth with as much passion as Martin had shown while sucking him off. It was there, his own taste combined with Martin, as well as their dinner, sweetness from the sauces mixing with the salty tang of his semen. 

Danny pulled back long enough to take a quick breath, making note of the fullness of Martin's lips and the flush of his lover's skin, and then he was back to that mouth, seeking out more of their taste. Danny let his other hand snake between them to grasp Martin's erection, loving the way it flexed within his grasp. Martin moaned, and Danny felt a bit guilty that he hadn't done anything to give Martin any relief, and he knew that Martin had been hard for a while now. What to do, though? He could slowly stroke him to completion, or he could return the favor and suck Martin off, and find out just how good he tasted. Danny grinned into Martin's mouth, his mind made up.

Breaking off the kiss on another moan from Martin, Danny began to pull Martin to the side, until he had him on the floor, parallel to the coffee table. "My turn…" Danny said as he moved between Martin's legs, his grin growing broader when Martin spread his legs open for him. "Damn, but you're gonna wear me out with just thinking about all I want to do to you…do with you." 

Danny ran his hands up the insides of Martin's thighs, his eyes on Martin's face and making note of the way Martin's feelings were flitting over his face. He never saw Martin like that at work. Well, there were some times when Martin let his emotions show, usually when a child was involved in their case or was their case, or they weren't able to find their missing person alive. The rest of the time though, Martin seemed to have his emotions tightly controlled. In a way, it wasn't really that surprising to Danny to find out that when it came to sex, Martin didn't want to be in control, but wanted to hand that control off to someone else. People that tightly controlled in public couldn't possibly be expected to maintain that control at all times, although Danny was pretty sure that Martin's old man probably expected it of Martin.

Danny drew in a deep breath as he raised up slightly, feeling more than a bit blessed and a little overwhelmed that Martin was putting so much trust in him. He smiled slightly at Martin, his heart jumping when Martin slowly smiled back.

"You're thinking again," Martin said.

Danny nodded, "I am. But not in a bad way. I was thinking about how much I love you, and how much it means for you to trust me this much."

Martin cocked his head to one side, a look of confusion in his eyes. "Why wouldn't I trust you? You're never let me down, Danny."

"I can say the same thing about you," Danny said as he gave Martin's cock another squeeze. "I hurt you this weekend…" he gave Martin's cock a harder squeeze when it looked as if the other man was going to argue. "Don't interrupt. I hurt you, and we both know it. And I'm so damn sorry that I did that to you. But I'm not at all sorry that you forgave me, and I'm going to do everything in my power to prove to you that that forgiveness wasn't given in vain. But first, I'm going to suck you off, then feed you. Then we'll talk…really talk. And then I'm going to make love to you."

Danny leaned over Martin's body, his face hovering inches above Martin's. "I thought we were making love already," Martin said.

Danny chuckled. "Okay, so we were. Well, then I'm going to make love to you again. Slowly and carefully, until I have you so wound up that you're going to be begging me to fuck you." Danny had kept his hand on Martin's cock as he spoke, and it didn't surprise him when that cock flexed during his little speech. Danny placed a quick kiss on Martin's lips, followed by fast kisses down Martin's body until his head was even with Martin's cock. Taking just the cockhead into his mouth, Danny slowly swirled his tongue around the tip, earning a moan and a slightly upward movement of Martin's hips for his efforts.

Danny slipped his right hand up Martin's belly until he touched the now warm metal of the chain that connected the nipple clamps. Sucking intently as he moved his head further down the shaft of Martin's member, Danny began to slowly pull on the chain, an act that earned him the feeling of Martin's fingers entangling in his hair and a long moan of pleasure. Martin's body arched toward him, and Danny could tell that Martin was close, but no matter how hard he sucked, or how quickly he moved his head up and down Martin's cock, the man just wouldn't let go. And then Danny remember his earlier words, when he'd informed Martin that his cock belonged to him, and that Martin wasn't allowed to come until he told him he could. Any other man, and Danny wouldn't think twice about having said that, but Martin wasn't any other man; he was a top's wet dream come to life, and Danny had the gut feeling that Martin would do everything in his power to delay his own orgasm until Danny gave him the go-ahead.

Danny sucked his way off of Martin's cock and moved quickly, claiming Martin's mouth once more in a crushing kiss. Tugging lightly on the chain, Danny broke off the kiss and looked down into Martin's eyes. God, but he could get lost in those eyes, they were so open and full of lust right then, full of the promise of what was still to come that evening.

"When I go down on you again, you will come for me," Danny said, and he placed a quick kiss on Martin's lips. "Understand?"

Martin nodded. "Yes, sir."

Danny's brows rose at that response, but his desire to get his lover off overrode the urge to pick on Martin for being that submissive. Then again, Danny thought as he kissed his way back down Martin's body, it was kinda nice hearing Martin calling him 'sir.' Especially since he wasn't rolling his eyes while doing so, or using a sarcastic tone of voice. Yeah, he could definitely get used to a submissive Martin.

Danny grasped the chain again, pulling gently, yet continually on it as he once more took Martin's cock into his mouth. He'd barely gotten half of it in when Martin cried out, his hands once more grasping Danny's hair as his entire body shuddered. Danny began to swallow the moment he felt Martin's cock begin to spasm, not wanting to waste a drop. He'd been imagining this moment for so long now, and as most things had been proving to be since he and Martin had first kissed last night, the reality was proving to be so much better than his mind had ever imagined. Danny thought he'd never stop swallowing, but finally there was nothing left, and he gently licked his way up Martin's cock, kissing the cockhead before letting the soft member fall to lie against the smooth skin of Martin's groin. 

Martin's hands were pulling on his hair, urging him to move, and Danny obeyed that silent plea, until he was once more face to face with Martin. Before Danny could ask the fully sated man if he'd liked that, he found his own mouth being as thoroughly ravished as when he'd kissed Martin, and Danny couldn't stop the shiver of delight that ran through him as he realized that Martin liked kissing after oral sex as much as he did.

As Martin's head dropped to the carpet, all grins, Danny laughed. "Damn."

Martin chuckled, he was still breathing too hard to manage a true laugh. "Yeah."

Danny moved slightly so that he could stretch out beside Martin, and he draped an arm over Martin's body, his fingers lightly stroking sweat-slick skin. "I guess I'd better get these off you," he said, fingering the chain that looked really good as it rested against Martin's skin. "Don't want to cut off the circulation to anything vital."

Martin turned his head toward him and smiled. "Hasn't happened yet."

"Really?" Danny grinned. "Well, they do say that there's a first time for everything. Hold still." Sitting up, Danny worked carefully to disengage the clamps, and the tossed them onto the coffee table as he stretched back out.

"You do know that I have a bed in the other room," Martin said, sounding far more amused than the moment dictated. "It's a big bed, too."

"I've seen your bed. But right now I don't think I'm capable of moving any more than what I've already done. Besides, the Pad Thai is out here, and I don't think you really want to risk getting your sheets all sticky with the sweet and sour sauce for the crab Rangoon."

Martin laughed. "You'd be surprised at what I don't mind getting on my sheets."

Danny raised up on one elbow and looked intently at Martin. "I'm beginning to see that you're full of surprises, Fitzy. And we still need to talk. We can do that while we finish eating." 

Danny sat up and began to move the food back onto the table, but Martin didn't move at all. "C'mon, babe. I know you need the nourishment, and while I know that you're trying to think of ways to get out of talking, it is something that has to happen before we can go any further tonight." Danny, like Martin, really didn't want to get into a deep conversation right then. He wanted nothing more than to keep on doing what they'd been doing, and finally take Martin before offering himself to the other man. Only problem with that idea is that Danny didn't know if Martin even liked fucking other guys, or if he liked being on both the giving and receiving end of things. Danny also knew that until he knew for himself just what Martin wanted and when he wanted it, then he wouldn't feel fully comfortable about things. The last thing he wanted was to be continually doubting the two of them - himself about whether or not Martin was really satisfied, and then doubting Martin whenever he said that something was okay.

Martin blew out a quick breath, then moved so that he was sitting cross-legged on the rug on the other side of the table from Danny, the couch providing a back rest for him. The mere fact that Martin was putting space between them told Danny that his lover was expecting the worst, and was trying to get into the best defensive position possible. Well, Danny wasn't going to be having any of that. He moved over by Martin, settling in beside him, and ignored the look that Martin sent his way, one that plainly said Danny was intruding on his personal space again, and would he please back off. Hell, Danny'd never obeyed that look before, and he had no intention of doing so now.

"Just because we *need* to talk, that doesn't mean that the conversation is going to be bad. You and Chris needed to talk, and that wasn't a bad conversation, was it?" Danny asked with what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

Martin shook his head. "No, it wasn't. But the last time you and I needed to talk, nothing good came of it."

"I know, and I'm sorry about last night. But I've got my head on straight now, and I have no intention of letting you get away." Danny pulled a carton of Pad Thai toward himself and picked up a pair of the chopsticks. "Chris said that I needed to talk to you, ask you about what you liked, and when you liked it. It seems that I let my imagination get the better of me and had some odd idea that you…" Danny grabbed up a bit of the noodles, not wanting to insult Martin, but not really knowing how to phrase what he'd been thinking. "Well, that you liked being hurt every time you had sex, and that what happened last week with Chris was something you wanted all the time."

The silence that met those words seemed to drag out for a long time, and Danny began to worry that he'd once more done something to hurt or offend Martin. However, he wasn't feeling any vibes of that nature from the man beside him, and he finally risked turning his head to look at Martin. He thought he was prepared for just about any reaction from Martin, but the grin on the other man's face took him by surprise. It was pretty clear that Martin was trying to not laugh out loud.

"You think that's funny?"

Martin finally let go of the laugh that he'd been holding back, and he nodded. "Oh, yeah. Not as funny as you thinking that I'd shot myself, but pretty funny."

"Hey!" Danny didn't think it funny at all that he had been that worried about Martin when hearing about the shot being fired in his building. "You were drunk, and drunk people have been known to do things that they wouldn't do while sober."

Martin leaned over and bumped his shoulder against Danny's. "I know, and I'm sorry that you had to be worried about me. But it's still funny. Fitzgerald's never take the easy way out. I think it's got to do with that whole stereotype of the Irish as an ever-suffering people or something like that. We get melancholy and might fade away, or drink ourselves to death, but blow our brains out?" Martin shook his head. "Not going to happen, Danny."

Danny grinned, "Glad to hear it. And I guess I was kinda acting like an ass earlier. But I still think you deserve a spanking for tossing us out."

Martin's eyebrows rose questioningly. "And getting spanked is supposed to be a bad thing?"

"You tell me," Danny quickly replied. "Like I said, I let my imagination get the better of me, and I was seriously thinking that I'd never be able to keep you satisfied. And for me, that's one Hell of an admission!" Not that Danny really had all that big of an ego when it came to his own opinion of his sexual prowess. But, yeah, if it was just sex that they were talking about, then he had no doubt at all that he could keep Martin happily satisfied. But, there was more than just sex going on with Martin, and Danny still had his doubts about just how far he was willing to go, even for the man he loved.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date originally published: April 20, 2009

Martin idly pushed noodles around with his chopsticks, not really hungry anymore. He didn't like talking about his feelings at the best of times, and now here Danny was, asking him about something a Hell of a lot more personal than emotions! He'd been afraid earlier of letting Danny see just how much he liked what the other man was doing, but when Danny had pulled out those damn nipple clamps…Martin's gaze strayed to where they sat on the table, and he couldn't stop the small smile that formed as his brain registered the dull ache around his nipples. Well, Danny had definitely noticed how much Martin had liked that, and he hadn't freaked out about it. Maybe, just maybe, there wasn't a danger of Danny running off if Martin opened up to him about what he liked.

Then again, Chris had been right about one thing. Martin didn't want that kind of action all of the time, although he had no idea how Chris knew that. Yes, they'd talked a lot while together, but their talks about sex had centered on what each of them liked, and not that Martin or Chris didn't like that kind of stuff each and every time. And he really didn't want to think about Chris and Danny talking about it.

"I'd say it's more of a male thing," Martin began. "I've always been attracted to both men and women, but with women, it's different. I mean, yes, I want to bring her pleasure, but I expect to get just as much from her. I also want things to be more equal between us. I don't want one or the other deciding what we'll do and how we'll do it, or even when. But with another man, I don't want that. I prefer to have the other guy be the one in charge. Granted, I've had more relationships with women than I've had with men. Hell, I've never really had a relationship with another man." Martin admitted.

He let out a rough sigh as he shoved the chopsticks into the container and placed it on the table. "The week I spent with Chris is probably the longest, continual relationship I've ever had with another guy. There were some guys at clubs that were regulars, and I'd go off with them more than once, but no boyfriends, not even back in school. I really don't know how Chris could assure you of what I'd want, when I've never been in the position to know what I would want from a boyfriend."

Martin looked over at Danny, trying to gauge how he was taking this. But Danny was staring down into his own food container, and Martin couldn't see his eyes. He really needed to see Danny's eyes right then.

"Danny?"

Danny looked over at him, and while his expression seemed unreadable, Martin saw all that he needed to know in those expressive brown eyes. Danny wasn't feeling derision toward him. No, what Martin saw in his eyes was confusion and uncertainty. Based on Danny's admission that he felt he might not be able to satisfy him, Martin ached to put Danny's fears to rest.

"I really enjoyed what we did, even before you pulled out those nipple clamps," Martin said, a genuine smile on his face. He had liked what they'd been doing, and wanted to do it again, and again and again and again. "I wish I could give you a better answer, I really do. But I think that, like with any other couple starting out on a new relationship, we're just going to have to play it by ear and see what happens. I've already promised you that I'll let you know when something gets to be too much for me, and you've pretty much said that you'll let me know if I want something you don't think you can give. I don't think we can ask much more than that, do you?"

Martin hadn't realized just how important this was to him until Danny grinned and nodded. "I think you're right about that."

Martin let out a laugh. While he'd never been in a real relationship before with another man, this was one relationship that he found himself really wanting to work. And it wasn't just because the sex with Danny was so mind-numbing good, but because it was Danny, pure and simple.

Danny put his carton of food on the table and turned his body slightly toward Martin, a serious look now in his eyes. "So, why not a relationship with a man? Was it because of your family?"

Martin shook his head. "No. I had plenty of girlfriends who my parents didn't approve of, and I wouldn't have let their disapproval over me being with a guy get in the way if that's what I wanted," Martin smiled. Some of those girlfriends had been chosen just because he knew that his parents would freak out over them, and there was a part of him that felt like an ass for doing that. Those girls had deserved better, he knew it and he hoped they knew it, too. But he had the sinking thought that they probably thought they'd hit gold when he'd asked them out, and didn't really care about the whys behind his actions. Just as long as they could head back to their dorm rooms after their dates and brag that they'd had him. So, maybe he wasn't the only one doing the using back then, but he still didn't feel right about it.

"So then what? You never met a guy that you wanted to be with for months at a time, or even longer?" Danny asked, a smirk playing around his mouth and just begging to be kissed away. But Martin knew that he wouldn't be able to divert Danny from this line of questioning, even with the offer of sex. Danny could be like a dog with a fresh bone at times, and while he might let himself get distracted for a moment or two, he'd always go back to the topic at hand.

"I met a few guys that I probably wouldn't have minded that with. But for the most part I only sought out guys at certain times. I've never been the type to go from bar to bar in search of a bed partner. If I want to pick up someone, I go out and pick them up at one place. Or get picked up, as the case may be."

Danny shook his head. "You're gonna make me drag this out of you, aren't you, Fitzie?"

"I don't know what you mean," Martin quickly replied. He knew exactly what Danny meant. Danny wanted him to open up and tell him why he liked what he liked, and Martin wasn't sure that he wanted to reveal that much of himself to Danny yet. Granted, Danny had revealed some of his own insecurities to him recently, and Martin appreciated the trust. And he wanted to return that trust, he really did. He just didn't think that Danny would be all that understanding of the reasons why Martin sought out men who would hurt him.

"Don't you?" Danny placed his hand on Martin's knee and gave it a squeeze. "It's just me, Martin. I'm not your old man, out to hold anything and everything over your head. And I'm not Jack, out to lecture you about your lifestyle choices. It's just me, Danny Taylor, the guy who loves you and wants to know more about this side of you that you've never let me see before."

Wow. Danny definitely had his father pegged, and Jack, too. Jack meant well, Martin knew that. His father, however, never meant well. Danny had a point though; he'd already shown Danny a part of himself that he'd never before shown to the man, so it was only fair to give him some explanation as to why that side existed.

Martin nodded, but he didn't say anything at first. The reasons why he enjoyed being hurt weren't things he gave a lot of deep thought about, and he wasn't really sure if he could explain them to himself, let alone to Danny. But, for Danny's sake, he'd try. "There are times when I feel as if I don't meet up to what's expected of me. It doesn't matter if it's my Dad's expectations, or Jack's, or yours. Or even my own. There are just times when I feel that I come up lacking, feeling as if I don't deserve what I've been given. And then there are times when I just feel numb inside because of what I've seen. When I'm like that, then that's when I go to places like the Falcon. At those times, I want my sex rough and harsh, and I don't want to have to think about anything other than pleasing the guy that I'm with at that time."

Martin reached for his soda, taking a long drink. "It makes me feel better…human again. And, I suppose that the worse I feel beforehand, the more it takes to make me feel better. It would probably be more productive for us to talk about what we both like or dislike with regard to sex; especially things like sex toys and stuff like that." Martin grinned, "Not that your body isn't a great turn-on all by itself, but sometimes I like a little bit more."

Danny chuckled, "Yeah, I think I noticed that about you."

Martin laughed. "Never let it be said that I'm shy when it comes to acknowledging what I like."

"So, I know that you like having your nipples messed with," Danny said, his usual smirk firmly in place.

Martin nodded. "I guess you want me to add more to the list?"

Danny's eyebrows rose as he gave Martin a glare that screamed 'Doh!'

"Well, let's see…" Martin took another sip of his soda, then nodded. "I like being spanked, especially over someone's knee. Doesn't really matter too much if it's with a belt or paddle, although I am a bit more partial to a bare hand. I like being told what to do, and how to do it, and dirty talking is always a big turn-on for me."

"I picked up on that, too," Danny said, still smirking. "And since I noticed the welts, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that you like taking it a step further from being spanked and that you enjoy being whipped. Or are those welts from a belt?"

"It was a whip," Martin admitted. He looked over at Danny, easily picking up on the fact that mentioning a whip made Danny look uncomfortable. 

Martin put his soda can on the table and moved quickly to straddle Danny's thighs, draping his arms over Danny's shoulders. "I don't see any need to rush out to buy any of that. We can take things day by day and just see what happens. I'm pretty damn sure that you're never going to disappoint me, Danny."

Martin had no intention of giving Danny time to argue with him. He didn't want to rattle off a list of what he liked and didn't like, or what toys he wanted them to use, and he certainly didn't want to run the risk of Danny realizing that Martin was just too fucked up for him after all and find some excuse to leave. Besides, it *was* more fun to find out things about each other rather than having a Q and A session.

Martin leaned in closer, his lips ghosting over Danny's as bare skin slid against bare skin and he let his fingers lightly ruffle the short hairs on the back of Danny's neck. "I seem to remember hearing something about how we're supposed to be engaged in some wild fucking?"

Danny's eyes darkened. "Yeah," he said, his breath hot against Martin's mouth. "I remember hearing that, too. However," Martin gasped as Danny's hands grabbed his ass and pulled him even closer. "I'm more in the mood to make slow, passionate love to you. Think you can handle that kind of action right now?"

Martin's answer was to smile and then kiss Danny. It was a long, slow kiss, full of tongue and emotion, and when Martin pulled back a little breathless, they were both smiling.

Martin got to his feet and held his hand out toward Danny. "Yeah, I think I can handle that kind of action."

God, but it was nice to watch as Danny reached up and grabbed his hand, then got to his feet in one smooth motion. Martin didn't think there was an ounce of fat anywhere on the other man's body. Instead, Danny seemed to be all muscle covered with golden skin, and for a moment, Martin felt lacking as he knew his own skin was pale and uninteresting. At least he didn't come up short in the muscle department, Martin thought. It was bad enough to be pasty-white, so he was glad that he also wasn't too skinny or flabby.

Martin bit back a yelp as he felt a sharp sting on his ass, and he glared at his grinning partner. "What was that for?"

"I told you that I owed you for locking me and Chris out earlier," Danny replied.

Martin shook his head. "No. You tried to claim that you owed me back for forcing you and Chris to have to stay out in the hall with the police officer. You never mentioned anything about locking the two of you out."

"Oh, you've got such a short memory, Fitzie," Danny said with a laugh. "What did I say when you came to the door?"

Martin thought back, then grinned. "I think it was something about fucking me," he replied, deliberately leaving out part of what Danny had said.

"It was more like me vowing to fucking tan your hide."

"Was it?" Martin didn't even try to hold back his smirk.

"You know it was. And you might as well know that I've been wanting to spank that fine ass of yours for a long time, so it's a good thing that you like that kind of thing."

"Is it?" Again, Martin smirked.

Danny moved closer until their bodies were touching from groin to chest, and he rested both of his hands on Martin's ass. "It most definitely is. So, why don't we get to that boring bedroom of yours and see what we can do about it?"

"You think my bedroom is boring?" Martin had brought his hands up, originally intending to rest them on Danny's shoulders, but now he pushed them between their bodies, hoping to separate them. "Boring?"

"Yes, boring. Plain white walls, no artwork, no color. No curtains, either. Not much in there at all to grab a person's attention." Danny then grinned. "Although the sight of that king-sized bed of yours did give me some dirty thoughts."

Martin grinned back. "I don't think it's boring to have the bed be the main focus of the room, especially once you consider all the nice things that can happen in a bed like that."

Martin's grin grew broader as Danny's hands dipped lower and he gave both ass cheeks a firm squeeze. "I was thinking of some decidedly un-nice things that we could do, but I can handle nice, too."

"Well, then c'mon, and let's go see what we can come up with." Martin slipped out of Danny's embrace and started for his room. It wasn't until he was at the door that he realized that Danny hadn't followed him. Turning slightly to look back at the other man, Martin was surprised to see that Danny was just standing there, an intense look on his face as he looked back at him.

"What?" Martin asked. If Danny had changed his mind again, then Martin really would get violent with him.

Danny slowly grinned. "I was just appreciating how good you look when you're walking away from me naked. I've spent many hours watching you walk away and wondering just what those slacks were hiding, and I have to admit that what I imagined doesn't come close to how good you look."

Martin felt a bit of heat on his face as Danny's comment sank in. Danny liked his ass, despite how pale it must look to him. "Yeah, well, even though I've seen you often enough in just your boxers or a towel, your body looks a lot better than I ever imagined, too."

Danny walked to him, then reached out and pushed the bedroom door open. "Thank you. Now let's ignore that I zoned out on your ass and get back to the business at hand. Which, if I remember right, was getting that fine ass of yours spanked."

 

Martin snuggled closer to Danny, content to just stay there and listen to the combined sounds of Danny's breathing and heartbeat. Danny, however, seemed to be happier if he kept moving, but Martin didn't mind the way his lover's hands were still sliding over his body, lightly stroking his skin. Finally though, Danny's hands came to a stop, with one resting on Martin's hip and the other on the rise of his ass.

Martin raised his head until he could see his bedside clock, and then he rested it back against Danny's shoulder.

"Got somewhere you need to be?" Danny asked, his voice sounding about as lazy as it did sated.

"Nope. I was just wondering what time it was, that's all. It's later than I thought."

"Is that praise or a complaint?"

"Neither. Although, spending hours making love with you isn't a bad way to pass the time," Martin lifted his head a bit and placed a kiss on Danny's skin, then snuggled back down.

"Yeah, it was pretty damn good, wasn't it?" 

Martin nodded. He'd known that Danny would be more than enough for him, and he hoped that now Danny could believe that, too. "I've never felt like this before."

"Oh? As in fucked so thoroughly you couldn't move if your life depended on it, or as in spanked so thoroughly you won't be able to sit down at work tomorrow?"

Martin smiled against Danny's chest. "I was thinking more along the lines of being loved so completely that my mind still can't quite grasp it all."

Martin felt the vibrations of Danny's laugh. "You are such a sap, Martin."

"Maybe. I can't help it if it's true, though. It's funny, two nights ago at this time, I was scared that I was going to lose your friendship once I told you about Chris and me being together. On Friday, I never could have imagined things turning out this way."

"On Friday, I was wishing that I was Chris Larabee and you were the mysterious fuck toy," Danny admitted. His hands were once more skimming over Martin's skin, and Martin was pretty sure that the soft cock that his thigh was touching, was now getting hard. "I had myself convinced that it was nothing more than a fantasy. But, I guess that wishes really do come true."

"Now look who's being sappy," Martin joked. But he felt the same way. He'd fantasized so many times about being with Danny, about Danny wanting him and loving him. And now it was a reality.

Martin suddenly found himself on his back as Danny moved over him, "Can't help it if it's true." Danny's mouth latched onto a nipple, sucking and then licking the skin around it. "Mmmm…delicious."

"You're confusing my body with food," Martin pointed out. "A person can't be delicious."

"Can, too. And I'll prove it to you tomorrow when I get my hands on a dictionary. For now, you're just gonna have to trust me on that."

Martin turned his head and licked at Danny's arm, tasting his skin. "Mmmm…you're right. You are delicious."

Danny's tongue swiped at Martin's other nipple. "Don't leave out delectable. And scrumptious, and sweet, and…"

"Egotistical," Martin added with a smirk.

Danny lifted his head and grinned back at Martin. "Hey, I was describing you! I don't think I'll ever get enough of your body."

"Good thing we've got all night then, because I know I'll never get enough of you."

Danny's grin faded, and he looked serious. "I want this to last a long time, Martin. You admitted that you've never had a relationship with another man, and it's only fair that I let you know that while I have had one, it was just that. One relationship. It lasted less than two years, but it was enough to give me a taste of how good it can be to be with someone for a long time. I know that we'll be even better than that."

Martin smiled. "I'll just have to trust you on that."

Danny moved his body slightly upward, until they were face to face. "And I promise that I'll never give you a reason to regret giving me that trust." He kissed Martin then, leaving his lips partly open. As Martin kissed Danny back, his tongue delving into that warm mouth, he found himself knowing two things. The first was that he knew he'd never regret trusting Danny, and the second was that Danny's mouth really did taste delicious.


End file.
